AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s a lot of sugar,” he said.
“It’s a birthday cake shot.”
“A what?”
“Cream, cake-flavored vodka, and chocolate.” Polly held up the glass. “Birthday cake shot.”
“It’s your birthday?”
She nodded. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Twenty-five, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Still a baby.”
Ababy?She frowned, rankled at the idea that this hot, sexy man didn’t see her as a woman.
“Your go, man.” The other guy moved back from the pool table.
Mr. Hottie chalked his cue and stepped forward to take his shot. Polly backed away to give him room. He pocketed the yellow ball. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the redhead and her boobs slither out of the corner booth and start toward him, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
Before Polly could even think of what to do next, the redhead had sidled up to Mr. Hottie and put her hand on his arm. She leaned in to speak close to his ear. Though Polly couldn’t hear what she said, she was pretty sure it wasn’t“Hi, how are you?”
Disappointment stabbed her. She had no idea how to compete with a woman like that, who wore her blatant sexuality like armor.
She turned and shuffled back to Mia, feeling like a whipped dog.
“What?” Mia darted a glance at Mr. Hottie. “What happened?”
“Slutty redhead happened,” Polly said morosely. She tilted her head back to down the birthday cake shot, appreciating the sweet burn of alcohol and hoping it would obliterate her disappointment. “Can we go now?”
“Oh, Pols.” Mia sighed. “Don’t give up so easily. Look, check out that guy over there.”
She nodded toward a younger, blond guy at the end of the bar. Polly supposed he was cute, but she couldn’t drum up any interest in trying again.
“I promise, we’ll find a guy who can rock your world,” Mia said. “And your headboard.”
The guy beside her, who was in possession of an impressive but fuzzy unibrow that crawled like a caterpillar over his eyes, leaned over and waggled his singular eyebrow at Polly.
“I can help you with that, little lady,” he remarked.
The fact that Polly was momentarily tempted was a measure of how much she’d had to drink, how desperate she was getting, and how bummed out she was over her failure with Mr. Hottie.
“Dream on, dude,” Mia told Unibrow Guy, rolling her eyes.
“I’m going to pee, then we can go home,” Polly muttered.
She set her empty shotglass on the bar and maneuvered through the crowd leading to the restrooms. After using the toilet, she washed her hands and checked her reflection in the mirror. Aside from being flushed and tipsy, she looked the same as always—curly brown hair falling past her shoulders, ordinary features, nice but nothing fabulous.
At least this time she was free of Cheetos dust and grape-soda stains. But even with Mia’s makeup artistry and clothing choices, she still looked like Polly Lockhart.
Not that that was a bad thing. She liked being Polly Lockhart. She just wished she was a more courageous, self-confident version of herself. A girl who was better at navigating the world alone. A girl who didn’t find it necessary to hide with a basement-dwelling lump because she was too scared to put herself out there.
Polly started back to the bar, reminding herself that she was no longer in a relationship with Brian and, therefore, she was no longer hiding.
A broad, male body was blocking the narrow corridor leading back to the bar. One look—actually, one leap of her silly heart—and she knew it was Mr. Hottie. His back was to her, and he had a cell phone pressed to his ear.
“…yeah, he should have told me but he didn’t,” he was saying, his voice tense.
Polly stopped. Since she had no idea how long he planned to chat, she reached up and tapped on his shoulder. It was like poking her finger against stone.
