🍺:Our muses go out drinking
When was the last time he had a drink? Must have been six months and some change ago when he went fishing with his pops. The blond held a beer bottle by the neck, it being his fourth or fifth. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t looking to be a sociable drunk.
He wanted to be drunk drunk.
Quinn was with her friends, they dancing and looking hot. No surprise there, his girl always looked sexy. Normally he’d be up there doing his thing and showing his sweet moves to all the onlookers, because, come on; God gifted him with the the best thrusting hips any dude could ask for.
But tonight wasn’t a night of celebration for one Sam Evans. Not when he found out an hour ago he lost his job, the one he’d been 110% dedicated to for the past year. The very job he was using to save up enough money to buy the engagement ring he knew his girl deserved. One to replace the promise ring he gave her years ago.
The bottle returned to his lips, he thinking of other places he could apply to or other means to make money because when he set his mind to doing something; by God he got it done. No matter what the consequences were.
Sam watched Quinn move about the dance floor of the bar, she singing to Pat Benatar and having the time of her life; he not wanting to break the news to her. Why should he? He could keep it from her for a little while. He knew she’d listen and be understanding. She offering the right words and consoling him the way she knew how.
But he didn’t feel like being consoled.
He felt like punching a wall.
The bottle,empty, went down onto the bar and the bartender asked if he wanted another. He waved him off and shook his head. “Nah, man. Thanks.” Sam dropped cash and thought about going to the head, but he saw some sketch dude slide up to Quinn and Brittany; his green eyes watchful.
Instead of giving him a chance to say more than a few syllables he stepped up and placed himself between his girlfriend and the guy. “Can I help you?” he asked, speech slurred and accent thick.
Looks were exchanged between he and the older dude. They in the midst of an unspoken pissing match but Sam towered over him by a good five inches; his muscles clear through his shirt. After a solid minute he backed away and Sam placed a protective arm around Quinn.
As much as he wanted to get out of there and lay down for a couple days he took one look at her beautiful face; the one he was blessed to see nearly every weekend whenever she came down to visit him; and he softened.
He smiled softly, feeling some of his stress ebb away. “Think a guy like me can get a dance with a girl like you?” he grinned, knowing how cheesy it sounded but she dug that about him.
Least she acted like she did.
