But Kato and Karl were already striding away, without a look over their shoulders, disappearing into the crowd. Suddenly the music seemed really loud. I shook my head as if to clear it, my thoughts muddled. It was as if a different me had taken over my body momentarily, making me act out of character. But Maggie’s voice knocked me back to earth.
“What the hell?” she demanded, hands on her hips, eyes accusing.
I could see why she was angry. She’d been the one leading the charge, she’d been the first to see the guys, and I was supposed to be her second, a wing woman. An unspoken agreement was that Maggie got first dibs and I’d get whatever was leftover. Instead, I’d snuck in and made off with not one, but both men.
I thought about feigning innocence, about making up some lie about how she hadn’t tried hard enough, but our long friendship prevented me. Instead, I was straight up, acknowledging what I’d done.
“Mags, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” I said apologetically, telling the truth. “I’m not sure what came over me, maybe it’s my time of month?”
“Don’t give me that,” she snapped. “Seriously, what the hell?” she spat again, eyes darkening. Maggie is a pretty girl but red infused her face now, making it splotchy and mottled. “What the hell Tina? You know clam jamming is against girl code.”
I sighed. I’ve always hated this “girl code” stuff and its ill-defined, somewhat imaginary rules. I mean, sure, there were the basics like “don’t date a friend’s ex,” but every other rule seemed to be made-up on the fly. Still, it seemed easier to apologize than work out the intricacies of girl code.
“Mags, I’m so sorry,” I said again, apologizing profusely. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“What were you thinking?” she practically screeched, spittle flying. “I saw those guys first!”
“I know,” I said miserably, “I know, I know, it’s just that …”
“Just what?” my friend spat. “Seriously, just what?”
I hung my head with shame.
“Just nothing,” I said softly. “I have no excuse.”
Maggie snorted at that.
“That’s right, you have no excuse. I’m so pissed at you. I can’t believe you’ve done this on our last night together. What happened to hos before bros?”
I could feel the giggles welling up despite everything. Hos before bros? Clam jamming? The phrases were just too funny, not to mention ridiculous, but I made myself keep a straight face and apologize once more.
“Maggie, I’m so sorry,” I said sincerely. “I have no excuse, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Make sure you do,” huffed my friend before turning her back and flouncing off, heels clacking loudly. I let out another sigh. Mags was always involved in some mini-vendetta or other, and I guess this time it was me on her shit list. Oh well.
In the meantime, there were the two men … and only two minutes before our rendezvous.
KARL
She was absolutely gorgeous. A little young, sure, but still off the charts beautiful, with a mass of curly brown hair, soft hazel eyes, and a sweet, curvy figure. Oh yeah, and that bod. My bro and I were into it, one hundred percent.
So we stood behind the Old Dog, smoking cigarettes while waiting for the girl. This tobacco shit will kill you, but hey, we were on shore leave, so a man might as well live it up a little. Fifteen days straight on deck will make a dude crazy, especially because in this particular profession, it’s all guys, all day, aboard a packed ship.
But we were on the last day of our three-day leave, and what do you know, but a beautiful girl had come up to us at the grimiest, most divey bar in town. The Old Dog wasn’t exactly known for its attractive ladies. More the opposite, in fact. It was known for its old-style hookers. The working girls were middle-aged, experienced, with make-up spackled on and boobs down to their knees. Some guys like that stuff, saying that “it feels real,” and that’s fine. We have nothing against prostitutes, whether seventeen or seventy. It was just a surprise to meet someone like Tina at the Dog.
Because we’d seen her the minute she walked into the bar, like a breath of fresh air blowing into the stale, seedy place. Round and curvy, she’d stood out like a beacon, almost radiating light. And even in the skank outfit, the brunette projected class – the kind that money can’t buy, the kind that you’re born with.
And whaddya know, but we were scheduled for a rendezvous with the hottest woman this side of the Mediterranean in about thirty seconds.
“Think she’ll show?” asked my twin, stamping out his cig. “She’s a little young.”
“She’ll show,” I growled, doing the same. “She better.”
Because my boner was already at full mast, aching, heavy and stiff in my jeans just thinking of the brunette, the anticipation hanging heavy in the night air.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, letting out a shaft of light. We were in a deserted alley in back of the bar, the music from inside muffled, the night dark around us. There were a couple newspapers blowing around, some dumpsters stationed in the corner, but we were essentially alone except for a couple necking about twenty feet away. Judging from the loud smacking noises and occasional grunts, they wouldn’t notice if World War Three happened mere feet away.
So when Tina slipped outside, we said nothing, just motioned her towards us, further back.