made my way to my bathroom, rushing through a warm shower.
As I smeared some ointment on my newest stripe, my phone chimed with a message from Quinn. He texted me a picture of the sign from Corner Hole Bar, and then a second picture. It took me a moment to figure out what it was: the back of Avery’s head.
Smirking to myself, I typed out a quick response, letting him know I’d be right there before changing into a fresh T-shirt and jeans. I headed out into the night, walking faster than I’d ever admit. One thing I loved about the North was the bars were open on Sundays, although Pennsylvania was a weird state where you could only get your alcohol from bars and state stores. It wasn’t like back home in Georgia where I could pick up a six-pack at the gas station.
Corner Hole was full of the usual suspects: doctors and nurses fresh from their shift and a few other third shifters peppered alongside local alcoholics. I nodded at Quinn, who held up a beer before looking to his left. I followed his gaze and locked eyes with Avery, who was laughing at something her friend Deb had said. She tucked her hair behind her ear, her teeth sinking into her lower lip to suppress her wide smile.
I stared at her for a moment, unable to look away. It wasn’t until Quinn stepped into my view that I let the connection be broken.
“I don’t want to be a dick, but I call dibs on the brunette.”
I glanced around him to Deb, who was still engulfed in her conversation with Avery. Avery wasn’t as invested, still sneaking glances in my direction.
“She’s all yours, buddy.” I patted his shoulder before I walked toward the bar, struggling to suppress a laugh. Deb was a fireball, and she would eat Quinn alive, but she may have been the only kind of woman who could put him in his place besides his mother.
Leaning against the bar, I held up two fingers to Ginger, the barmaid. She nodded as she grabbed two Budweisers from the cooler and popped off the caps.
“You gonna keep an eye on this asshole tonight?” she asked as she tilted her head toward Quinn.
He mumbled something inappropriate under his breath as he picked up his beer. His grin widened as Ginger flicked her artificial auburn hair behind her shoulder.
“I’ll do my best.” I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and fished out two twenty-dollar bills, slapping them on the bar. “Can I get a round for those ladies? The usual.”
Ginger raised her eyebrow before pouring out two Cowboy Cocksucker shots.
I held up my beer to Avery as she smiled appreciatively. Deb picked up her glass and winked at Quinn before she ran her tongue over her lips and downed her drink.
“I’m hittin’ that tonight. How about you and her friend?” Quinn said, his words already slurring.
“I already hit her the other night, remember?” I laughed, and the fresh stripe tattoo on my side rubbed against the material of my shirt, reminding me the situation wasn’t funny at all. Not before, and not now. Getting involved with Avery was dangerous—for both of us. She could get hurt—even more seriously this time—and I had a feeling that would wreck me.
Deb was chattering in the background, going on about the way Quinn was looking at her from across the Corner Hole bar. My ears only caught every other word, between the live band and Josh Avery’s form fitting T-shirt and five o’clock shadow drawing my attention. He had bought me a drink, and any moment, he would walk toward me with the fuck me smile I’d seen him offer to other women so many times before.
It was shameful, the way I could anticipate his every move before he made it, yet I was playing along. Like so many before me, I would believe this time was different. Something about me would change his whoring ways, and he would be deeply in love and loyal to me until one of us died—and maybe even after that. It was a vicious cycle that kept us perpetually single and in desperate need of our next connection, however brief.
I
As I smeared some ointment on my newest stripe, my phone chimed with a message from Quinn. He texted me a picture of the sign from Corner Hole Bar, and then a second picture. It took me a moment to figure out what it was: the back of Avery’s head.
Smirking to myself, I typed out a quick response, letting him know I’d be right there before changing into a fresh T-shirt and jeans. I headed out into the night, walking faster than I’d ever admit. One thing I loved about the North was the bars were open on Sundays, although Pennsylvania was a weird state where you could only get your alcohol from bars and state stores. It wasn’t like back home in Georgia where I could pick up a six-pack at the gas station.
Corner Hole was full of the usual suspects: doctors and nurses fresh from their shift and a few other third shifters peppered alongside local alcoholics. I nodded at Quinn, who held up a beer before looking to his left. I followed his gaze and locked eyes with Avery, who was laughing at something her friend Deb had said. She tucked her hair behind her ear, her teeth sinking into her lower lip to suppress her wide smile.
I stared at her for a moment, unable to look away. It wasn’t until Quinn stepped into my view that I let the connection be broken.
“I don’t want to be a dick, but I call dibs on the brunette.”
I glanced around him to Deb, who was still engulfed in her conversation with Avery. Avery wasn’t as invested, still sneaking glances in my direction.
“She’s all yours, buddy.” I patted his shoulder before I walked toward the bar, struggling to suppress a laugh. Deb was a fireball, and she would eat Quinn alive, but she may have been the only kind of woman who could put him in his place besides his mother.
Leaning against the bar, I held up two fingers to Ginger, the barmaid. She nodded as she grabbed two Budweisers from the cooler and popped off the caps.
“You gonna keep an eye on this asshole tonight?” she asked as she tilted her head toward Quinn.
He mumbled something inappropriate under his breath as he picked up his beer. His grin widened as Ginger flicked her artificial auburn hair behind her shoulder.
“I’ll do my best.” I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and fished out two twenty-dollar bills, slapping them on the bar. “Can I get a round for those ladies? The usual.”
Ginger raised her eyebrow before pouring out two Cowboy Cocksucker shots.
I held up my beer to Avery as she smiled appreciatively. Deb picked up her glass and winked at Quinn before she ran her tongue over her lips and downed her drink.
“I’m hittin’ that tonight. How about you and her friend?” Quinn said, his words already slurring.
“I already hit her the other night, remember?” I laughed, and the fresh stripe tattoo on my side rubbed against the material of my shirt, reminding me the situation wasn’t funny at all. Not before, and not now. Getting involved with Avery was dangerous—for both of us. She could get hurt—even more seriously this time—and I had a feeling that would wreck me.
Deb was chattering in the background, going on about the way Quinn was looking at her from across the Corner Hole bar. My ears only caught every other word, between the live band and Josh Avery’s form fitting T-shirt and five o’clock shadow drawing my attention. He had bought me a drink, and any moment, he would walk toward me with the fuck me smile I’d seen him offer to other women so many times before.
It was shameful, the way I could anticipate his every move before he made it, yet I was playing along. Like so many before me, I would believe this time was different. Something about me would change his whoring ways, and he would be deeply in love and loyal to me until one of us died—and maybe even after that. It was a vicious cycle that kept us perpetually single and in desperate need of our next connection, however brief.
I
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