Andrew crossed his arms over his chest puffing himself up. It was adorable as little brothers go, but I had years of benching weights and hauling sixty pound packs of gear in the desert. I wasn’t better than him, just thicker.
“Dude. Do your laundry and it won’t be a problem.” He picked up the shirt and dropped it in my hamper. We both knew he wouldn’t correct mom on my shirt size any more than I would. We loved her too much for that. She liked to think we were still her little boys playing peewee sports instead of the hulking giants we’ve become.
I smiled finding a new way to torment him. “I could ask the barmaid to do it.”
“Remington is not doing your laundry.” His voice hardened and I proceeded poking the overprotective bear.
“I bet she’d do it if I asked nicely.”
“She doesn’t need to be hauling your shit to the washer and dryer. She’s got enough on her plate.”
“Okay bro, level with me. Are you fucking her or is this–” I didn’t even get a chance to finish because Andrew launched himself at me ready to fight. What my brother didn’t have in muscles he made up for with speed.
“What did I say about leaving her alone?” He got in my face and I felt my own temper building. I wouldn’t hit my brother over a young pretty red head, but that wasn’t to say I handled my anger any better these days than I had in the past.
“Chill out. I’m fucking with you.” I pushed him back and he stood down realizing I wasn’t going to do anything to the new girl who lived in our building in the studio apartment between us and worked at the bar below. He hired her months ago but I just now getting to know her.
“I think she’s hanging out with some bad news football player from the school. I don’t like it. She’s this innocent little thing with no one to watch out for her.” Andrew leaned against the wall explaining even though he didn’t owe me an explanation. My heart clenched because I knew exactly where this came from.
“You know she isn’t…” I didn’t have to finish that sentence. Andrew knew. We both knew and it pained us equally in different ways.
“Yeah, I know she’s not her, but you know me. I take on the stray cats and try fixing them.” He shook his head. Sierra would always be between us. The broken girl who had nearly ripped our family apart and then left without a trace. It was better this way. Cleaner. More clear cut.
“You should come out with me then. Blow off some steam. We can call Chase and Hunter.”
“You really think the guys are going to come out and leave the girls at home?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, you never know. Besides, it’s been ages since we all hung out.”
“True, except the main bartender called out and I can’t leave Remi alone to handle the crowd. She mixes a shitty drink and I haven’t had time to teach her properly besides uncorking wine and the bottled beer.”
“Fine, but don’t wait up for me. I’ll call an Uber if I need too.” We clapped backs in a distant hug and I made my way downstairs to take my bike. I had no plans to get shit faced, but felt the need to drink something and ease the ache behind my eyes from the flashback I had earlier in the day. Fucking car back fired and I was still flinching. Feeling weak and not in control infuriated me, yet here I was prepared to drink my shitty problems away in a bar that wasn’t my family’s business in the next town over.
Hypocritical?
Maybe.
Hello oxy meet moron.
I never claimed to be perfect and the demons in my head wouldn’t go away on their own.
***
The bar was nestled off a side street close to the river bank. A good spot for riffraff, hipsters, and anyone looking for a good time while blending into the dark and neon lights taking shots. The Pig and Dog was a sight for sore eyes as I had hung out there prior to my deployment when I was busy spending my free time pissed at Andrew and Sierra along with my parents for letting things escalate back then. The P&D or also commonly known as the Poughkeepsie Dump catered to a slightly rough crowd who behaved well when the alcohol flowed and garbage bands played cover songs from the eighties. I felt like I could be regular David instead of Special Task Sargent David Easton or rising football player number 22, or that kid from Easton’s Pub and Brewery. Here I could be anonymous and my flashbacks to IEDs and gunfire could blend in with the shitty disco ball and fog machine.
I grabbed a drink and headed for the corner high booth where I could scan the crowd and find a willing body to gyrate next to mine for the evening. I wasn’t typically anti-social but I wasn’t a snuggler given my difficulty sleeping. Good sex wore me out to sleep through the night and alcohol gave me the oblivion I craved when a body wasn’t in the picture.
I saw her standing at the bar with her girlfriends doing shots of alcohol and her hips swaying to the music beat. She had good rhythm which often translated to what would transpire between the sheets and my jeans tugged tight. If she wasn’t up for something this raging cock in my pants was going to be a real pain to ride home with.
The girl with smooth skin that reminded me of a summer night, the palest caramel, and the girl in that Spiderman movie. My libido was ruled by my stomach, what could I say? I wasn’t politically correct in the least and she looked good enough to eat? Now I sounded like a pervert when all I wanted to do was run my hand up and down her curves in appreciation. God must have seen to giving her the good genes and I didn’t discriminate. Heck, if my mother allowed Andrew and I to hand pictures of women in our teenage bedrooms, I would have picked Beyoncé with her banging curves and gorgeous eyes I could drown in while yanking off. Bar girl had a sultry look that invited a second gander and some serious conversation.
Her clothes were tight, almost painted on her skinny frame and her leggings slipped into tall black boots making her look like my own personal superhero. Her loose top slipped over one shoulder but it might as well have been her cape. Kinky hair graced the top of her shoulders and I had an urge to stick my fingers in it to see if it was as soft as it looked. I wasn’t going to touch her hair though. Dudes can’t just run up and touch a girl’s hair without the threat of a good dick-punch standing in one’s way.
Instead I walked over to make an introduction. I may have been rusty but I liked to think I still had some of my charm left over from the days before I enlisted and went away.
I walked up to her group of friends smiling and nodded at the one who looked like the Girl’s Night ringleader of the pack. A tall blonde girl who looked Nordic and like a Disney princess was passing out their drinks. An average brunette hung in the back checking her cellphone behind two women who could have passed for African princesses, one stood regal eye fucking me while my dancing superhero had yet to make eye contact. I liked that I had the upper hand here and I liked that they seemed to be watching out for each other. I had a thing for smart and responsible girls. They didn’t have to be good girls. I just didn’t want the drama my brother’s ex had shadowed our family with.
“Never seen you in here before.” The regal one said to me squinting her eyes appraising me in my too tight muscl