The waitress arrived with a bottle of whiskey and seven shot glasses. Yeah, she was eye-fucking me big time, but she was a blonde, and I so wasn’t interested.
Ches poured the drinks and spoke quietly.
“Look, I’m really sorry, man. You know, about Caro…”
Pain lanced through the numbness, punching a bigger hole into my chest. My lungs felt as if they’d shrivel from the burn of hearing her name.
“Ches,” I snarled. “Don’t ever mention that bitch’s name to me again.”
He nodded slowly. “Done.”
I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand. I was so certain Caro would have been here, with me. She was a fucking journalist—how hard could it be for her to find me? Obviously it wasn’t: the only answer was that she didn’t want me. And I was such a fucking fool.
Suddenly, I felt angry. Three years I’d waited for her. Three fucking years.
I threw another shot of whiskey down my throat. When I opened my eyes, I nearly had a heart attack: a woman with long, brown hair was staring at me. For a split second, I thought it was Caro. Of course, it wasn’t—just a nice-looking, older chick. Her eyes were blue, not brown. Her eyes were the wrong color.
She smiled at me and raised her eyebrows as if she was asking me a question.
Whatever.
The answer was ‘yes’.
I pushed myself to my feet and walked over to her.
“Hi,” I managed to slur out.
“Hi yourself, handsome.”
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Sure, honey, if you’re old enough.”
I stared back at her. “I’m old enough for a lot of things.”
“Hmm, that sounds interesting.”
She patted the vacant barstool next to her and when I sat down, she laid a possessive hand on my thigh. Even through the denim, I could feel the warmth of her touch.
We talked for about half an hour, I have no idea what about. I do remember the moment when she leaned over to kiss me, ‘accidentally’ brushing her hand over my junk.
I pulled her onto my lap and kissed her hard, feeling the vibrations through her body as she moaned into my mouth. She tasted of nicotine and beer, which made me feel slightly sick, on top of all the alcohol I’d drunk.
“You wanna come outside, soldier?” she said, her voice husky with lust.
I nodded, and followed her as she pulled me through the crowded bar, dragging me into an alley at the side.
Before my brain could catch up with what she was doing, she forced my body against the wall and started tugging at my belt.
“You’d better not be too drunk to get it up, soldier,” she said, her hands rough on my body.
You don’t need to worry about that, baby.
“Holy shit!” she gasped, as she tugged down the zipper of my jeans.
We fucked in the alley.
Until that moment, the only woman I’d ever been with had been Caro. I thought this would burn away the memories. I thought this would make me feel something other than pain. But I couldn’t lie to myself. I wanted Caro, just her. I didn’t want this.
But it wasn’t Caro. It wasn’t ever going to be Caro.