A Guy Like Her

Gingers Are Like Fat Chicks In Bed, They Get Wild

Chapter Thirty-Six
-Gingers Are Like Fat Chicks In Bed, They Get Wild-

"Make it two," Taylor told the bartender and lent against the bar, looking at me. "Thought about the assignment yet?" he asked and I shrugged being childish and still hating him 'cause he's a jerk.

"Maybe you could stop being a jackass and scaring innocent people," I suggested and he laughed as he rolled his eyes.

"But your face, and the pitch of your voice over the bathroom stall was near on priceless. Not to mention the whole package when I made you scream just then, I regret nothing," He stated firmly and I rolled my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest, glancing around the packed bar.

"You're such a creep hanging out in girl's toilets," I reminded him as I scowled.

"You're the creep that likes to cover yourself in pee," He retorted and stepped back immediately when I tried to lash out at him again, laughing. "I'm kidding!" He quickly said, grabbing my wrists to control me.

"Mean," I stated, he laughed again as our drinks were sat down on the bar and he let go of my hands.

"Anything else?" The bartender asked, I didn't want anything so I looked at Taylor.

"Two whiskey shots to balance out the prissy girly drinks," He replied glancing uneasily at the drinks just put in front of him.

"I'm not shotting whiskey," I told him firmly and he gave a short laugh.

"I know. I'm shotting whiskey... both of them to replace the balls I'm about to lose drinking that shit," He replied, gesturing to the drinks on the bar.

"It's good," I told him, frowning.

"Alcohol is meant to get you wasted, not be pretty and special. It isn't the prom," he told me, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, go make a rule about it, loser," I rolled my eyes back at him.

"Fine, I will." He gave me a defiant look.

"Good," I told him.

"Great," He agreed, before knocking back the amber coloured shots when they arrived on the bar. He pulled a face, shook his head and let out a satisfied growl.

"Happy now that your man hood is firmly back in place, wolverine?" I asked him, sipping my sweet drink and enjoying it.

"Yeah, I should be able to get through this now," He replied, glancing at the only drink left on the bar apprehensively.

I rolled my eyes and started back to the group of people we were with. He waited until he was seated and tentatively put his lips to the glass. After a tiny sip, his face screwed up like he was about to die.

"Ah. No," He groaned loudly. "Nope. Tastes like children's cocaine. Jesus. How fucking sweet is that? No, Hell No." He pushed the drink at me and got up immediately and left the table, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

I continued sipping my drink as I watched him go and order something else. Sweet; got my second drink already. I waited for him to return with an amused smirk. He came back with a corona and lime and sat down and looked me over as I held my drink's straw to my lips, happily sipping my little heart out. "There's something wrong with you," He leaned in to tell me quietly and pulled back, nodding at me to confirm it.

"It's probably my association with you, butthole," I smiled sweetly back at him as his face straightened into serious betrayal.

"You're a real mean drunk Lucy, you know that?" He asked as he frowned at me, looking hurt. "Butthole...?" He murmured to himself quietly, staring at his hands and beer helplessly. He had to be kidding.