Page 6 of Her Temptations
Matt
“Hey, handsome, can I get you another round? It’s on the house.”
I look up at the bartender who has spoken. She’s smiling at me, dimpled cheeks dramatic under the pale light of the bar room. I glance at the name tag near her perky breasts—Alyssa. She’s cute, this one; a hippy of sorts, dark dreadlocks and striking blue eyes.
“What do you think, gentlemen?” I ask, turning to the boys flanking me on either side. “Could we use another round?”
“Only as long as it’s coming from you,” Dereck says, turning to wink at her. On the other side of me, Bryce grins, a red tint rising to his cheeks.
“Thanks,” he says. The bartender smiles shyly and fills up three more mugs of frosty beer.
“To the start of our senior year,” our friend Bryce says, raising his glass in a toast. “And to us, for being three dumb guys who now happen to be well on their way to becoming useful members of society.”
“May the women flow loose, and the homework come easy,” I add with a grin, and both of my friends laugh.
“Cheers,” Dereck and Bryce say together, clinking their mugs with my own. We each take a long drink and slam the cups back down onto the counter. I turn around on the barstool to scope out the local talent—aka, girls. Over the music, some of the new freshmen are on the dance floor, grinding and swaying to the beat. They’re hot, many of them, and would probably be a nice fuck. But even as I watch the girls, none of them catch my eye and hold it. They’re all just that: random girls, just like every year.
I swivel back on my stool, facing the array of bottles behind the busy bartender. I hear my best friends on either side of me, enjoying their drinks. I’ve known them for practically my whole life, and throughout our entire grade school careers, we’ve always had each other’s backs. Bryce, pummeled on the playground in third grade, was a dork. A weirdo. At the time, I’d given his then-bully a reason to cry in front of everybody. A fist to the nose does wonders, and at that moment, I did two things—de-throned the main bully at the school and gained a competent right-hand-man. He may be quiet, and a bit of a beta, but he’s good to have around. My left-hand-man came a year later. Dereck was another lifetime friend and was a natural fit to our “crew.” A bit of a hot head, he's somewhat of a brute, yet loyal to a fault. Together, the three of us were unstoppable, and ruled the school with an iron fist all the way up to twelfth grade.
I take another sip of beer, savoring those memories.
The bell on the door rings, and I swivel back around to see who has entered the bar. Three girls come in, bundled up tight against the cold. The first is a small, pink-haired hottie with ears full of piercings. She’s stumbling a bit; drunk already, it seems. Behind her is a tall, slender, sweet looking girl whose eyes stay cast to the floor. She looks like she doesn’t want to be here.
“Hey,” Dereck says suddenly, elbowing me in the ribs. He’s looking in the same direction I am, and I know we both see the same thing at once. The third woman through the door catches both of our attention. She’s beautiful, it’s the first thing I notice. Rose-colored hair flows over her shoulders, and a white hat is pulled down over her ears. Her cheeks are tinted crimson, nose dotted with freckles. She’s not exactly as thin as the other two, but it suits her somehow, glorious curves that sway as she walks at just the right moments. She looks familiar somehow, and for a moment I can’t place it. I feel like I’ve seen her before, known her, even…
“Fuck me sideways,” Bryce says suddenly from the other side of Dereck and me. “Isn’t that Rowan Bates?”
All three of us freeze, eyes on Rowan as she follows the other two deeper into the bar and shrugs off her jacket, securing it over the back of a chair. She takes her hat off and drops it onto the seat before sitting down with her other two friends. She’s smiling, perfectly white teeth lined in a beautiful row.
“I never thought I’d see her again,” says Dereck, frowning in their direction. “She doesn’t even look the same. When was the last time we saw her, anyway? Sophomore year of high school?”
“Yeah,” mutters Bryce. “Her parents pulled her out and transferred schools after ….” he hesitates, and I think he’s not going to finish. “After that night.”
For a moment, all the three of us can do is stare silently in her direction as memories flood our minds. It feels like it’s been so long since we last saw Rowan Bates, and yet it’s only been a few years. Apparently, a few years can change everything.
“Excuse me,” Dereck says to the bartender. “Can we get a round of drinks for the table in the corner?”
I shoot a glance at Dereck, stomach tightening with apprehension. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Beating you to the punch.”
The bartender glances up briefly, a sour expression crossing her face. Jealousy, plain as day, but it’s gone before I can call her out on it.
“Sure,” she says to Dereck. “No problem.”
From the other side of me, a wary expression crosses over Bryce’s face. “Shit. You don’t think she’ll throw it at us, do you?”
Dereck shrugs and snorts. “She might.”
“I don’t know,” I say, watching the server load her trays with the mugs of beer. “I guess we’ll find out if fireworks are about to fly, but either way, we have front-row seats.”