by Amy Muscat
“I love this place. They make the best burgers in the city, and you’ll love it. You do eat burgers, right? You’re not one of those women who don’t eat in front of men or don’t even eat meat or carbs at all are you?” He looked slightly horrified at the thought. Ha!
Snorting I tell him, “Oh Blake, I am definitely not one of them girls. Fuck that, I like my food too much to start starving myself. Urgh, just thinking about that is making me hungry, come on, let’s go,” I said opening my door.
“Wait, let me op–” Blake started to say, but I had already climbed out of the car and shut the door on him, shutting his voice out. Well for a second anyway. “Why didn’t you wait for me to open the door for you?”
“Erm, because I don’t need someone to open the door for me? I can open the door you know, jeez.”
“Yeah, but I’m trying to do the whole gentlemen thing here; opening doors for you and all that, you know?”
Snorting again–, which I realised, was not ladylike at all, but who gives a fuck? – I tell him, “I never said I wanted you to be a gentlemen Blake, I just asked for no funny business. I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman; I can open my own door, shut my own door, and go to the toilet on my own, okay? Now come on, I’m dying to taste one of these burgers,” and with that I start walking to the entrance of Bob’s, hearing Blake muttering something about ‘stubborn woman.’
AFTER TWO DRINKS AT the bar and waiting thirty minutes for a table to open up, we followed our waiter over to a table at the back of the bar.
Our waiter, Tom, lays our menus in front of us and asks if we wanted anything to drink.
We both get the same as before, Blake a Bud, and a Grey Goose & Lemonade for me.
“I’ve never tried Grey Goose before, is it good?” He asks me.
“Yeah, best drink I’ve ever drunk. The vodka’s so smooth, you shouldn’t even drink it with a mixer, and you should just drink it with ice. Grey Goose on the rocks is strong as fuck and you only have that when you really need a drink, you know?”
“Hmm… Yeah, I do. But when I drink spirits it’s Jack Daniels. When I really need a drink, it’s a good Scotch. But other than that I just stick to Budweiser.”
Just as I was about to reply, Tom comes back with our drinks and asks if we were ready to order, or if we wanted him to come back.
“Sod that! It’s rammed in here, we’ll order now, thank you.” I smile up at him. He smiles back at me, with a lustful look on his face.
Please little boy, like I would go for you, you’re way to young…
A harsh clearing of a throat brings my face up from where I was looking at the burger section, and I see that Blake glaring at Tom.
Is he… jealous?
“I’ll have a half pounder burger with cheese, fries, and some wings, please. Lottie, what do you want, Beauty?”
“I’ll have the same, please. Burger and chips– but I’ll have garlic bread with cheese instead of wings, thank you.” As I hand the menu back to Tom, I notice him looking at me funny like he is trying to work something out. “What?” I asked Blake when I see that he was eyeing me the same way.
“Chips? You want potato chips with your burger?” His forehead was wrinkled in confusion. It was a cute look on him.
“No, I want the chi– oh!”
“What?”
“I want a burger and fries,” I say to Tom.
“But you just said you wanted chi– oh!” Blake’s eyes widened. He had gotten it.
“Yeah,” I say in a duh voice.
“Could someone help me out here, I’m a little confused.”
“I’m British darling, my ‘chips’ are your ‘fries.’” I tell him.
“Oh, okay then,” his eyes looked a little lost. Bless him. These people just don’t get my lingo.
“Right, let’s make it simple for you, yeah? We want burgers and fries, twice, and some chicken wings and garlic bread with cheese. Thanks, mate.”
And with a nod he fast walked to the kitchen.
“You did that on purpose didn’t you?” Blake's eyes were narrowed on my face, not looking away from it for a second.
“What?” I ask in faux innocence. Okay, so I did like to do that sometimes… okay most of the time, but I really did forget this time.
“You know what.” Blake starts smiling at me, a hint of them dimples showing through.
Loved those dimples. They were a woman’s undoing.
“No, this time I honestly didn’t mean it. I do, do it sometimes– I find it funny. I mean come on! Americans must have heard a British accent before, bloody hell,” I grumble to him.
“Yeah but, some haven’t, and it’s weird for them to hear; especially because you don’t talk all posh and shit. Unless you’re angry, your accent comes out full force. I love it like that.” He grins, his straight white teeth gleaming at me.
“Oh, sod off.” I laugh.
His eyes, that are trained on my face, warm.
Our food came twenty minutes later, thank God; I was starving. When the waiter puts our plates down in front of us, I inhale the scent. It smelled delicious and looked fantastic. I couldn’t wait to dig into it all.
Grabbing the tomato sauce, I pulled the top part of my burger bun off, picking the salad tomato out and squeezing some onto the burger. I added salt and vinegar on my chips and squeezed the bottle again so I had a tomato sauce dip in the corner. Then I dug in.
Moaning at the taste, I chew some then take another bite, practically shoving the best burger I’d ever eaten down my throat.
I hear a noise come from Blake's direction and look over to see him sitting there with a dumbstruck expression on his face.
I raise a hand to cover my mouth and ask, “What?” It came out garbled, thanks to my full mouth, but I'm sure he understood me.
“Nothing.” When I just raise my eyebrows at him, he continues saying, “It’s really nothing. Women just don’t normally eat like that– especially in front of men,” he says raising his left hand up and running it through his inky black hair. It looked lush, and I knew from experience that when you were kissing him, and running your fingers through it, it felt like silk and was just long enough for you to grip onto.
Don’t go there Lottie, I silently scold myself.
“Yeah, I'm definitely not one of whose women, as you can probably tell. What’s the fucking point of going out with a man for food and rather not eating in front of him or eating a salad or nothing at all? Fuck that, I like my food too much.” I smile at him after I had swallowed the food left over in my mouth.
He looked impressed.
“Me personally? I like a woman who can and who likes to eat. Especially when you take out girls who don’t like to eat or they just order rabbit shit, major turn off.” He tells me.
Hmmm… so a man that likes when a woman eats and actually enjoys her food.
I just nodded at him and told him he was a proper man and carried on eating my food, but no matter how sexy he was and how much those dimples of his turned me on, I was still hungry and wanted to eat my food.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, we were both stuffed.
I had eaten just about everything on my plate and I think Blake was both amazed and amused.
He had burst out laughing when I picked up the dessert menu and picked out a slice of cheesecake to eat too.
What? I did say I liked my food.
We were at the bar having a drink when suddenly a tiny brunette practically jumps on Blake, giving him a death hug, squealing in his ear.
Urgh…
“Hi, Blake!” Her annoying voice felt like cheese graters to my ears.
“Err, hey, erm…” He truly looks lost.
“Emily…” The girl said looking put out because he hadn’t remembered her name.
HA! In your face bitch!
“Yeah Emily… nice to erm… see you again,” Blake says rubbing his hand through his hair again before he steps closer to me.
The girl– Emily– finally looks over and s
ees me standing there next to Blake, and sneers at me.
Yeah, okay little girl, keep looking at me like that and I'm going to smack the collagen out of your lips, I thought.
I raised my eyebrows again at her and smiled a bland smile at her.
Ignoring my look, she glances back at Blake and asks what he was doing later tonight.
Is this bird for real?
This might not be a date for Blake and me, but she doesn’t know that. Talk about stepping on one’s toes.
Clearing his throat, Blake looks back down at me. I was scowling. The next thing I knew he was putting his arm around me, pulling me closer to him.
What was he doing?
My question was answered when Blake said, “My girlfriend and I will be going back to her house.”
Oh… okay. I can play the girlfriend role for him.
“What?” Emily says, looking confused.
Oh for God’s sake! This girl was pissing me off; surely no one can be this dumb.
“We. Are. Going. Back. To. My. Place. To. Fuck. Hard.” I straight out tell her and had to hide the laugh that wanted to rip out from my chest at her pissed off look.
Blake, on the other hand, couldn’t. He, in the middle of a packed bar, and in her face no less, pissed himself laughing.
I had to smile.
So with a huff and a stomp of her foot, Emily storms off.
I started laughing at her childish behaviour, Blake joining in too.
“Ahh Angel, you’ve made my week. Thank you for that.”
“Meh,” I say shrugging my shoulders. “It was nothing. Besides, she was getting on my last nerve.”
Giving me a squeeze with the arm still wrapped around me, Blake leaned forward, grabbed his beer from the bar, and said, “So… about that fuck later…?
And with a push and a ‘fuck off’ from me, we carried on the night like we had been doing, before Blake’s old one-night stand turned up.
“SO… I HAD A GREAT time tonight.”
I burst out laughing at the number one cliché line a man or woman says after they’ve been on a date and had just arrived at their doorstep.
But, this wasn’t a date.
“I had a great night too,” Urgh. I sound even more cliché. Kill me now, I thought to myself.
Looking perplexed, probably at my laugh, Blake just stood there for a second, swinging back and forth on his feet, before saying goodnight and turning around to walk back to his car.
“Bye,” I whisper back, feeling my face drop in disappointment. I really thought he was going to kiss me.
I spin around and I had taken about three steps when I hear feet slapping on the pavement.
Spinning back around so fast my hair whips my face, I only have a second to notice Blake's face three centimetres from my own, before his big hands grab my face and then his lips smash down onto my own.
THE SHOCK OF FEELING his lips upon mine only lasts for a second, before my hands fist his shirt and I start kissing him back just as passionately as he was kissing me.
His taste was intoxicating; chocolate mixed with beer. I loved his taste and I didn’t even like beer.
Our tongues were battling for dominance and finally, with a grunt, I let him take over.
He groans with pleasure and bites down on my lip. Then he licks and sucks the sting away. Mmm… Nice.
Unclenching my fingers from his shirt, I run my hands up his body, feeling the hard muscle as I go. When I get to his pecks, I lightly scratch them. He groans before I carry on upward, over his neck, jaw, and ears and then finally to his hair. When I get there, I run my fingers through it, before gripping hold of the strands and pulling him closer.
The kiss turned more aggressive after that. Our tongues were clashing, teeth smashing together and our lips were doing the tango. Our hands were constantly moving; never staying in the same place for more than a few seconds. We were frantic in our movements.
It got to the point where I had to breathe, so I ripped my lips from his, stretching my neck back and take a gulp of much-needed air.
“Holy fuck…” I breathe out; my voice comes out breathy and husky.
“Yeah, holy fuck is right,” Blake says; his voice was hoarse and coated in desire.
He lays his forehead in the crook of my neck and his breath was warm on my skin.
I feel his stubble scratch at my neck and I feel his lips pucker, before he places a soft kiss on my pulse point.
Tingles and shivers race down my spine.
He was getting me worked up again, and I let a moan slip through my parted lips. “Blake…”
And just like that, I feel him become stiff. He lifts his head from where he was previously hiding it and his back becomes ramrod straight.
When I look up at his, now cold features, I feel the confusion flow through me.
What the fuck?
“Blake? Wha…?” It was all I managed to get out before he interrupted me.
“I’ve gotta go, Lottie.” His voice was like ice and it sent shivers down my spine again. Only this time, they weren’t good shivers.
“What, why? I don’t understand?”
“I just do, Lottie. This wasn’t a date, remember?”
“Yeah, I know that, but–” Again, he interrupted me; it was starting to piss me off.
“Look, babe, it was nice and all and I had a good time, but I think it’ll be best if I leave. I don’t want you to think that we are anything more or that we could be more, you know?” His face looked tight and hard, but his eyes looked softer somehow and… sorry?
Well, fuck him! Arsehole.
I never thought we could be anything more. Okay, admittedly I did sort of like Blake, but not the we’ve-had-one-date-now-let’s-go-have-babies-and-live-happily-ever-after like. More, I-fancy-a-shag-you’re-hot-and-I’m-really-turned-on, sort of like.
“Ha! Don’t be such an arrogant arsehole, Blake. I only wanted a quick fuck and I heard you were good for it, that’s all.” I spoke in a blunt tone and with my own hardness in my voice, but inside I felt pissed off and oddly hurt by him, his comments, and the way he was treating me. I wasn’t going to let that show, though. He didn’t deserve to know how I felt.
His face twists into some emotion I don’t understand, nor did I care to find out.
“Now, now. There’s no need to be a bitch, Lottie. I never would’ve taken you to be one.” He said with a smirk pulling up at his still kiss-swollen lips.
Prick.
“You know what, Blake? I’m not always a bitch… wait. Who am I kidding? Go fuck yourself.” And with that, I smoothly spin around and walk through the doorway. Down the hall, into the elevator, and when I reach my floor, I calmly walk to my door, open it with my keys, and softly shut the door after me.
It was when I got to the kitchen and started pouring a glass of wine that I started to feel the anger that had been building up inside me since the kiss ended. He ruined a perfectly good night.
With a flick of my wrist, my door keys went flying off the counter, along with my clutch bag. Then, with a gulp, I swallowed the rest of my wine and then proceeded to throw the glass at the wall opposite me with a yell.
“Arghhh! Arsehole! Narcissistic prick. Arrogant, fucking wanker!”
After my rant and throwing things around, I spin around and dig through my cupboard, pick up my bottle of Grey Goose, grab my phone and walk to my room. I plugged my iPhone in its dock and started blasting out some Guns and Roses.
ONE HOUR LATER I was smashed out of my face, singing Radio Ga Ga, and cursing Blake out for that kiss.
That kiss was the best kiss I’d ever received: totally mind-blowing. And he had ruined it.
Bastard.
“All we hear is Radio ga ga. Radio goo goo. Radio ga ga…”
In between the singing, I clapped my hands together at the appropriate times– well I tried to; my arms felt heavier than normal and my body felt sluggish.
My words sounded slurred, even to my own ears. After singing the
chorus again, I started to get bored of the song, so leaning over, and squinting one lone eye open so I could see better; I press on the screen of my phone to change the song. Céline Dion’s All By Myself comes on and I find myself chuckling at the irony of the song. Good ol’ shuffle.
But with a shrug of my shoulders, I sing the song every woman sings to when they’re feeling down.
“When I was young, I never needed anyone. And making love was just for fun…”
I interrupt myself and say, “Ha! The fucker wouldn’t even do that to me,” then continued singing.
“All by myself. Don't wanna be all by myself. Anymore.” I sang it softly, just as Céline does herself. Huh, I actually sound just like her. Maybe I should start singing instead of reading books for a living? I think to myself.
Shit! I was missing the best bit! “…wanna be all by myself… Anymoreeeee!!!!”
I stood up from my position on the floor, grabbed the Grey Goose bottle, and sing into it like it was a microphone.
“Don't wanna live by myself, by myself anymore by myself anymore…Ohhh…”
I was belting the iconic song out at the top of my lungs, my voice broke a couple of times in the end and I reconsidered my thoughts on becoming a singer.
At the end of the song, I felt better, still drunk, but better.
Putting the bottle of vodka down on my vanity table, I yanked my clothes off and crawled into my big, spacious, empty bed, and did the second best thing everyone does when they’re drunk; I texted Blake.
Dear Dick,
I had a weally greatt nite 2nite.
‘Til you went nd ducked it all up!
U R a ducking arsehole!!
Lottie :-(
I press send. Ha! In your face fucker… shit.
Quickly grabbing my phone, I hurriedly texted him back, correcting my mistake.
*FUCKING (Stupid predictive txt!!) :-(
And with that, I slump down onto my pillows and fall into a dreamless sleep.
