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Each time he’s approached, Ben politely declines, which is a point in his favor. A lot of insecure men would feel the need to rage and huff, informing all those closest to them that there was no way in hell a man could ever give them a boner.
Yeah, buddy, no one really cares about that, except you and the bigoted people who raised you.
So, Ben earns my approval with his kind but firm refusals.
Getting hit on is one thing; finding out that the entire clientele tends to be homosexual is the next level up. He scans the room, coming to focus on a generously tattooed woman ogling Terra’s chest as she slides her a very generous tip.
Sorry, lady, she’s taken.
Terra is a fantastic flirt, but that’s as far as it goes. She has an ironclad commitment to her girlfriend, Faith, who’s currently stationed in Afghanistan with her Army unit. Terra’s just working for the tips, and most nights, she comes home with at least fifty bucks more than me. I’m plenty friendly, but patrons come to me when they want drinks made quickly and with precision, and they go to Terra for a gorgeous rack to admire. You don’t have to be a straight dude to love boobs.
Ben turns to look at me, and I can see the question on his face. Suddenly, I get the urge to clarify that I am very interested in men.
“No, it’s not a requirement to work here.”
He flinches at my called-out comment but then smiles ruefully. “Just wondering.”
I collect the payment for the three beautiful blow-job shots I just crafted and then sidle back to Ben and Jasper.
“No problem. As long as you don’t have an issue with people who are.” I don’t miss the way Ben’s eyes flick to Jasper.
On occasion, I’ve seen Jasper in here, but I wasn’t sure if Ben knew. Seems like he does. Another good sign.
“Nope. Not at all.”
I’ve known Ben for only about a week, but everything I’ve discovered so far indicates that he’s a decent guy. I’d still give him my kidney even if he were a jerk. It’s not like having a bad attitude means you should get a death sentence. Still, knowing that my donation will help out a good person eases a stressful clench in my chest that I just realized was there.
My self-reflection is interrupted by the appearance of a very cocky Sammy. “Read ’em and weep, losers.” He throws down a handful of trash on the bar before taking a sip of a drink I definitely did not serve him.
“Sammy”—I use my most motherly tone—“where’d you get that drink?”
He grins around his straw and taps the trash pile. “I have many new friends. They like to give me things.”
Ben picks through the crumpled napkins and paper scraps. “These all have phone numbers on them.”
“That’s right.” Sammy grins and takes another tug on his straw.
“But all the names are guys’ names. Sammy, you’re straight. Remember?” Ben explains in a voice you’d use with a child.
Jasper snorts behind his fist.
Sammy glances at the numbers—I count six—that he’s collected. He appears thoughtful. After a moment, he shrugs and smiles wide again. “Doesn’t matter. Conclusion is still the same.”
“And that is?” Ben’s voice comes out strained, like he’s trying to hold back laughter.
“That Sammy Che is hot!” he declares while flexing some arm muscles that aren’t too shabby.
His buddies both crack up but give him some friendly slaps on the back.
“Okay, we’ve reached the talking in third person threshold. I think it’s time to call it a night.” Jasper pulls out his wallet to pay for the one other whiskey he drank.
“What? Nooo …” Sammy moans while glancing back to the dance floor.
“Yes. Time to go. Actually, it’s time to find you some food to soak up all that fruity liquor you’ve been sucking down. What do you say to a cheesesteak, buddy?”
This gets his spirits back up. “Geno’s?”
Jasper grumbles, “You know I’m a Pat’s guy.”
