At least he was a nice guy.
“Thanks man. Have a good night.”
I took a few deep breaths, shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans, and rocked back and forth on my heels.Should I go in or wait for her out here?
It had been fucking forever since I’d “met a girl for drinks”; I had no idea how it actually worked. More and more, I kept feeling like I was failing at being a grown-ass, single man.
“Mitch!” I spun around to see Bryn walking up the sidewalk toward me in kitten heels, a miniskirt that showed off an awesome sugar skull thigh piece, and a flowing white tank top her tits were about to pop out of.Holy hotness! Down boy.
I gave her a quick wave like a damn goober.
Real smooth, jackass.
“Hey you!”I forced my tone to get high, hoping that excitement would mask apprehension.
I went in for a half hug, and it was awkward, but also interesting, and intoxicating. Her makeup was done, she smelled like lilacs, and she was the perfect height to wrap up in my arms, even in heels.
I grabbed her right hand gently; her forearm was glistening in the yellow streetlight glow from the lotion she’d put on. It was a little puffy, but still freaking gorgeous.
“How’s it feeling?” I asked, not able to take my eyes off of the artwork on her skin.
She shrugged, grabbing the front door of the bar. “It’s not as bad as my back piece was, so I’ll take it.”
She sniggered a little. I wanted to grab on to the sound and hold it close—that’s how cute her laugh was, even though it was so fleeting. The best part was that her smile started at her eyes and took over her entire being, all just from one little giggle.
Is that even possible?
Get a fucking grip, man.