Eva

 

Brett Daniels. I haven’t seen him around in a while, but as soon as I heard the yelling when I was in the bathroom, I knew who it was. I didn’t need to even hear his name, I just knew it. He’s a player...the player. I’ll admit, he’s good at it. Good enough that if I hadn’t been friends with him since middle school, I’d fall for it all too. The tattoos covering his muscular body, that messy black hair, the facial hair that he keeps trimmed close to his face, and those bright blue eyes. Yeah, he’s fucking hot by anyone’s standards. It’s a good thing I’m immune.

“So where’ve you been hiding?” he asks, tossing back a shot of Jack.

“I haven’t been hiding, I’ve been busy.” He wiggles his eyebrows and I laugh. “Shut up. So, how’s life without Asher?”

Turning in his seat, he rests his tattooed arm on the sticky bar. “You make it sound like he died.”

“Well, he did in a sense. He’s not out here having fun anymore. He’s at home with the little woman, picking out wallpaper and curtains,” I joke.

He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re right about that. Still aren’t looking to settle down yourself?”

“Brett, you know damn well I’ll never settle down. Wasn’t something that interested me years ago, and it’s only been reinforced now. It’s all about fun. You know that better than anyone.”

Relationships are dirty, and complicated. You spend all your time with one person, trying to please them. Trying to make them feel like the center of the universe. Thing is, you shouldn’t need to spend your time convincing someone how amazing they are. If they don’t know it, they aren’t worth your time. I’ve wasted enough of my time.

“Oh, you know damn well it’s all about fun for me. Last thing I need is to hand over my balls like Asher,” he says.

We spend the next hour catching up and laughing. It feels good to be having fun, feeling carefree. It’s been a hell of a year and right now, sitting here with Brett reminds me how much I’ve been missing. He may come off as a manwhore, sleeping his way around this city, and yeah he is, but I don’t see him that way. I see him as a friend, someone that I wouldn’t mind hanging out with again.

“Alright, let’s talk about you needing a wingman,” I say, feeling the full effects of the alcohol swimming in my veins.

“I find your confidence sexy as hell, but you know I need a guy for a wingman. How are you going to distract the friend while I make my move? Unless, wait. Are you into girls now?” he asks, a huge smile breaking out on his face.

Tossing my head back laughing, I rest my hand on his large bicep. “It’s only girl on girl when there is a guy there to enjoy it,” I say, giving him a wink.

“Hot, but that still doesn’t help.”

“You’ve been limited with a guy for a wingman. You haven’t noticed all the action you are missing when a group goes out. I distract the guys, you have your pick of the ladies. It’s simple really. You get action, I get action. It’s a win/win for us both,” I say, flipping my long brown hair over my shoulder.

He searches my eyes for a minute, before a smile starts to spread across his face. “Eva, when did you become such a badass?”

“I’ve always been a badass, you just never noticed,” I joke.

“Bullshit. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying. Plus, you know damn well I’d notice.”

He’s right. I wasn’t always this badass, but things change and you change with them. There’s no going back in time, no second guessing decisions you’ve made. It’s pointless. Life is too short to not have fun while you can. So, yeah, I’ve become badass and I’m damn glad.

“My badassery is just something new you’ll have to get used to,” I say, grinning.

Smiling, he searches my light brown eyes. “I’ve missed you, Eva Chapman. Let’s give it a go. If it doesn’t work, fuck it. But we’ll definitely be hanging out one way or another.”

“Oh it will work. Don’t tell me I’ve got more confidence than you now.”

Moving in so close, I can smell the whiskey on his breath, he says, “My confidence is something you should never question, and my big ego should be proof enough.”

This is how he does it. Moving closer, talking in that deep, sexy voice. It can make women drop their panties without a subconscious thought. I’m not exaggerating, he’s that fucking good. Not even sure why he’s worried about having a wingman, because he sure as hell doesn’t need one. But in an effort to get some fun back in my life, I’m more than willing to do it.

Pushing on his solid chest, he backs up. “Save your sweet talk for someone it will work on.”

“Oh, my sweet talk is something else entirely,” he says, lifting an eyebrow.

Rolling my eyes, I finish my drink and stand up. “Okay sweet talker, I’m going home. You still have my cell, so give me a call and we’ll make plans.”

Shocking me, he stands and wraps his strong arms around me, lifting me off the ground. “Get ready, you’ve just replaced Asher.”

We both laugh, and I walk away, leaving him at the bar. Replacing Asher. Okay, I can live with that.