No Ordinary Bloke

by Mary Whitney

  “I know…”

  “Sort of a kinky alibi to boot. Because what if you believed it was his cousin’s but you still thought they messed around?” I clucked a few times. “Tsk, tsk. And I always thought the Chabot family was so proper. In fact, they have kissing cousins.”

  She giggled and pressed her hand to her lips. “No, he didn’t mess around with his cousin.”

  “Just joking.”

  “The funny thing is that sort of was his alibi. The bra was huge, like the woman had big breasts.” She touched her chest and grumbled, “Far bigger than mine.”

  That was the perfect time for me to make a comment about how often I fantasized about her tits, but I couldn’t. I had to play it straight. “And what does that have to do with his cousin?”

  “Jennifer has big breasts, but she’s big all over.” She wrinkled her nose. “Then I saw the matching thong also in his suitcase. It was tiny.”

  “Oh.” Big tits. Tiny ass. Los Angeles. Probably an aspiring actress, current stripper. Perfect for Trey on a trip without Melanie.

  “Yeah, when I held them both up to him, he caved. Said it was a meaningless one night stand and he still loved me. He said he’d never do it again.” She made a talking motion with her hand, “Blah, blah, blah. You get the idea.”

  “Do you believe it was a one night stand?”

  “Yeah. I do.” She shrugged. “He was too good to me before this to really screw around on me. Then again, I might just believe him because it’s easier to accept.”

  Sweet Jesus, women were so delusional sometimes. Blokes would never buy that. They’d assume the worst if their girl cheated on them. Not to mention, Trey came out of the mess relatively unscathed because she’d never questioned him about Melanie. I swore the worst arseholes had some of the best luck. The only response I could come up with for her naivety was a barely audible, “oh.”

  “I know I’m probably being naïve, but I don’t want to think about it. The result is still the same. I don’t want to be with a cheater.”

  “Of course not.”

  She sighed. “Anyway, it took a long time for me to get up the courage to contact you. I’m pretty ashamed for being such a fool and treating you so poorly. You were right.”

  “In this case, I really wish I wasn’t right. I’d never want to see you hurt.”

  “David, will you be my friend again?” she asked timidly. “I’m really sorry.”

  Stunned that my fortune had turned so abruptly and that she’d asked such a stupid question, I was quiet for a moment. When I noticed her bite her lip in nervousness, I said, “I never stopped being your friend.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “You’re the best.”

  I wasn’t sure what our friendship might entail, but I was happy nonetheless. Our food arrived at the perfect time to alleviate the heaviness of the moment. We chatted for the next half hour about work, and as our plates became empty, Cherie stopped by and asked how we were doing. After we told her everything was lovely, she left, and Allison leaned into the table. “So are you going to tell me the whole story with her? She’s very pretty.”

  “She is.” I smiled. “She might like to hear that from you. She likes girls much better than boys.”

  Allison’s mouth dropped open with a gaping smile. “Oh my God. So you two really weren’t compatible.”

  “Not really.”

  “But did something happen between you two?”

  “There was one night I saw her at another restaurant’s bar. We’d only been friendly, not even particularly flirtatious before then, but that night she was very…aggressive. And well, you can guess the rest.”

  “Yes, but what happened after that night?”

  “A week later, I ate lunch here again, and I tried to set-up a date. She pulled me aside and told me that she’d been on a rebound that night from her girlfriend, but now they were back together.”

  “Pardon me if you don’t mind my saying, but a lot of men would feel inadequate if they were dumped for a lesbian.”

  “Nah” I said, with a wave of my hand.

  “Why not?”

  “Dunno. I just didn’t take it personally.” I paused, wondering if I should tell her the rest of the story. I always told men the story. They loved it, but how would a woman react? Her eyes had a twinkle, and I hoped she still had that quirky sense of humor. “I suppose the way she broke the news to me helped.”

  “How so?” she asked, taking a drink of water.

  “She said she was sorry, but in the end, she preferred pussies to dicks. I told her that I understood because I agreed with her. I’d always preferred pussy.

  Allison’s eyes became wide with the glass to her lips, and with a snort, she spewed water everywhere. It splashed in her face and flew out across the table, even landing on me. She guffawed in laughter both at me and herself, as she tried to both dry and hide her face with her napkin. “I’m so sorry,” she said, gasping. “But that was too much…” She lowered her voice. “I can’t believe you said that here.”

  I looked about the room. It was busy enough, and we were a bit away from other tables. “Why ever not? No one heard me.” I said, half-way teasing her.

  “Come on.” She smiled. “Kind of inappropriate, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know. The word or the location where I said it?”

  “Well, the word is…the word. The location is definitely wrong. This is a nice restaurant.”

  “Ah, so if I said the wordy pussy elsewhere, then that would be okay?”

  Still with a grin, she looked up at the ceiling. “I missed you. I really did, but I’m not so sure I missed being put on the spot all the time.”

  After hearing she missed me, I was sure I needed to write a big fat check to the Archbishop of Canterbury to thank God for what was happening to me. I leaned closer to her. “I missed you terribly, and I definitely missed seeing you blush like you are right now.”

  She touched her cheek but quickly withdrew her hand from the heat of her blush. “Damn it.”

  “Let’s get back to my question. Is the word appropriate in another setting?”

  “Yes,” she said decidedly and with a roll of her eyes.

  “I agree.” I tapped the table. “So I take it you’ve said it at appropriate times in the past.”

  “Yes. Can we move on now?”

  “I suppose, but this is so much fun…” Really, I didn’t want to, but I’d probably already pushed the boundaries enough with her. The woman had just broken up with her boyfriend. She probably wasn’t looking to find a new bloke so soon. What had Dr. Nelson said? I’d been courting her. Well, it looked like I was going to have to court her again, but I didn’t care. I was too damn happy to have the opportunity at all.

  She checked her watch and frowned. “I have meeting in fifteen minutes. I’m sorry, but I need to run.”

  “I need to leave as well.” I leaned back in my seat, perfectly pleased with how the afternoon had gone. “So are you by chance free tomorrow night?”

  “I am…actually. I have work dinners tonight and Thursday, but I’m free tomorrow.”

  Her eyes were questioning as to what I might have up my sleeve. I could’ve asked her to dinner, but I didn’t want to be stuck in a restaurant again. I wanted to do something fun. “How about we shoot some pool? I know a fantastic billiards hall.”

  “Okay.” She smiled. “But I’m not a very good shot.”

  “I am. I’ll teach you, love.”

  The following evening, I had Allison meet me at my favorite kebab takeaway joint. The only problem was that we didn’t have a place to take the food away to. I’d already decided that we weren’t going to end up at my place—or her hotel for that matter. No, no, no. Even if she wanted to jump in the sack, it was the wrong thing to do.

  Now, if she did indeed want to fuck like crazed rabbits, it was going to be damn near impossible to stop me, but it needed to happen. My hope was she could see that I never wanted her just for sex. If I could
delay things just a bit, I figured she might stick around longer.

  So when we got our food from the kebab place, I nodded over to a park and a few benches nearby. “Let’s eat over there.”

  She nodded, and when we sat down on the bench, she said, “This cracks me up.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “It’s just kind of the antithesis of Trey. Instead of a fancy restaurant and a Broadway musical, it’s takeout on a park bench and a pool hall.”

  “Which do you prefer?” I asked warily.

  “This, of course.” She picked at her kebab. “It may not be a fair comparison though.”

  “How so?”

  “Can I be blunt?”

  “Please do. I prefer it, especially with women.”

  “Okay then,” she said as she exhaled. “Is this a date?”

  Her brilliant green eyes shown in the light of the park lamp. She seemed happy, but concerned. I understood that mix of emotions. “Dunno. Do you want it to be?”

  “Yes and no.” She cringed. “Please don’t hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you, love.” I really didn’t like hearing her answer, but I was curious. “Explain yourself.”

  “I really want it to be a date, but I think it’s probably best if I hold off for a while.” Her lips tugged up in a hopeful smile. “You could say it can’t be a date because of how much I want it to be a date.”

  I nodded and took a bite of my food. This allowed me some time to figure out how the fuck I was going to respond to that one. After I swallowed and took a swig of water, I asked, “Can I be blunt?”

  “Um. I don’t know.”

  “Wait. Why do you get to be blunt, but I can’t?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just said ‘I don’t know’ because I’m worried.”

  “What are you worried about?”

  “I’m worried that deep down you hate me.”

  “Hate you?” I snorted. “I don’t hate you. I’ll admit you broke my heart in San Francisco, but you had your reasons and I deserved some of it for putting you in a bad position. But I don’t hate you.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “On the contrary, I fancy you a little too much I think.” I chuckled. “I agree it’s probably best that this isn’t a date. I don’t want to be your rebound guy.”

  “I think not…” She giggled. “Do you think I’ll end up lesbian after a night with you?”

  “Let me remind you that Cherie was already a lesbian when we hooked up. So she didn’t become a lesbian after a night with me.”

  “Though you couldn’t convince her that men were better.”

  I pretended to be shocked. “Her biological inclinations are in no way a statement on my performance. I believe she enjoyed herself. Thank you very much.”

  “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’re very able.”

  “Look at you teasing me. When did you become such a cheeky girl?”

  “I’m sorry for teasing you. It’s just such a funny story.” Her tone then became more serious. “But I want you to know that you wouldn’t be a rebound for me. I think that’s what scares me.”

  I leaned in closer to her and inhaled her fresh scent. In a whisper, I said, “What if I told you that I’m scared as well?”

  “That would be reassuring.”

  “And what if I told you I wasn’t going to kiss you tonight? Does that make everything easier?”

  “Yeah, it does.” She twisted her mouth into a smirk. “Disappointing in some ways and a relief in others.”

  I raised my finger in the air. “And that’s why I shouldn’t kiss you. You’re ambivalent.”

  “I’m not ambivalent. That’s not what I said.” She crossed her arms over her chest and giggled again. “You want me begging for it, don’t you?”

  I could listen to that giggle of hers all night long. “Actually, yes, I do.”

  We laughed our way through the rest of dinner, and afterward we walked the few blocks to the pool hall. It was a modern hall, not one of those dodgy ones full of unsavory blokes, including those like myself. The place was rather hip, all chrome and bright colors, but it was still a pool hall. Right after we walked inside, she pointed to a sign. “What in the world is snooker?”

  “What do you think it is?”

  “I have no idea. It sounds obscene.”

  “It rather does, doesn’t it? But it’s another billiards game. I’ll teach you how to play it another day.”

  “Let’s see if you’re able to teach me pool first. It’s not going to be that easy.”

  “I’d love to play any game with you involving a stick and balls.”

  “Let’s get a pint,” she said, poking me hard in the chest. “We both need one.”

  As we walked in the room, Ted, the bartender nodded to us. “David. Siobhan.”

  I cringed internally, hoping Allison hadn’t heard him. Ted was nice enough, but he obviously was blind as a bat. Allison looked nothing like Siobhan. Unfortunately, Allison heard, and she tugged on my shirt. “What did he just say?”

  “My name and—”

  “Come over here you two. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “He’s never seen me before. Why did he just say that?”

  “Um. He’s mistaking you for someone else.”

  “Let me guess.” She gave me a dirty look. “One of your pool partners who’s also another kind of partner.”

  I scowled at her. “I haven’t seen Siobhan in almost a year. Give me a break.”

  She scowled right back at me, so I defended myself again, but this time with a good attack. “Didn’t you recently have a boyfriend?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “See. That’s how I’m feeling.” I nodded toward Ted. “Now, let me introduce you to him. I promise you you’re more memorable than Siobhan and he’ll never call you that again.”

  As I guessed, Ted was a perfect gentleman and apologized profusely for his mistake. Then he charmed the trousers off Allison by asking her all about New York. He even gave us the beers for free.

  Once we had an open pool table, we began a game. “You should break,” she said, pointing to the table with her cue.

  “Uh, no. You won’t get much of an opportunity to play if I break. I want you to do it.”

  “Okay…”

  As lined up to take the first shot, I could already see she needed immediate intervention, but I said nothing. I had the best view of her tits I’d ever seen. Poor thing didn’t pick the right shirt for pool. It was an elegant, billowy blouse she wore over black jeans, and when she leaned over, her breasts were on full display. Ivory skin with sweet freckles spilled out of a lacy white bra. If I was lucky, with all the leaning and stretching in the game, a beautiful nipple might slip out as well.

  As my mind raced to all the places it shouldn’t have gone, I remembered where we were. My head snapped up to see if any other blokes were admiring her beauties. Thankfully, it was a weeknight so the place was quiet, and we were alone at a corner table. I went back to staring at her tits.

  As she stretched across the table, she raised her eyes up to me before taking the shot. “You’re quiet, but I think that’s a bad sign. You’re laughing at me. Aren’t you?”

  “Not laughing, love. Just noticing some pointers we could talk over.” I said, before taking a sip of beer to hide my amusement at my own joke.

  She rolled her eyes and took the shot, not landing a single ball in a pocket. “What do you think?”

  “I think we should skip a game and just work on your shots for a while. Hit a couple of balls.”

  After she failed miserably on two shots, I said, “Okay, love, we need to take this one step at a time. Your aim is good, and you’re picking the right balls, but your arms are throwing everything off.”

  “Then show me how.”

  I walked over to her and quickly realized that my teaching abilities were limited unless I touched her. I smiled. “Remember when I said I wasn’t going to kiss you?”<
br />
  “I do.”

  “Well, in order to teach you pool, I may end up touching you.”

  “Where?” She arched her brow.

  “Sadly, only the necessary parts for playing pool.”

  “Okay then.”

  “First, let’s work on your arm motion.” She moved with me as I put her in the proper position, which was nice. She was small and warm against me again. After lining her up, I gently moved her shooting arm. “You don’t want to just whack it with all your force. Think of your arm as a drawer on its tracks. It needs to slide nice and evenly back and forth and then add some pressure to it.”

  “I do feel like I have more control this way,” she said, as we moved our arms together.

  “That’s right. A light, but firm grip on the shaft. Nice and even strokes with your stick gives you more control and you can go for longer.”

  She looked over her shoulder at me with an amused but disapproving expression. “You are talking about pool, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” I chuckled. “But it’s applicable in a lot of situations.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Like golf.”

  “You play golf?”

  “Fuck no. Bunch of tossers play that sport.” I tightened my arms around her. “Now, let’s work on your bridge.”

  “That’s my hand, right?”

  “Right.” I took her hand and placed it properly. “I like an open bridge. I like to feel my stick sliding in between. Women seem to like closed bridges, though, so their finger is wrapped around the stick.”

  “Oh my God.” She laughed and straightened up, so I had to take a step back. “Is this going to go on all night?”

  “What’s that, love?”

  “Everything you say is sexual.”

  “Tut.Tut. Such a naughty mind you have.” I smiled and touched the tip of her cute freckled nose with my fingertip. “I’m just using the terminology of the game, love.”

  “You are, but I know you…” She poked me in the chest. “You talk about balls and sticks and shafts and strokes and fingers and it all has a double entendre.”

  “Fair enough, but it’s not my fault. That’s the terminology of the game, not my choice of words.” I lowered my head so I was closer to her sparkling green eyes. “I promise you that if I’m ever lucky enough to talk dirty with you, there will be no double entendre.”