Page 7 of Big Girl Panties

"New at bartending, experienced at making terrible first impressions." I grabbed a shot glass, somehow managed not to drop it, and poured without spilling too much. "So what's got you drinking alone on a Tuesday night?"

Her ocean blue eyes sharpened. "Who says I'm drinking alone? Maybe I'm waiting for someone."

I made a show of looking around the decidedly empty bar area. "Must be someone pretty important to keep you waiting this long."

"Don't." She held up her hand. "I can smell the pickup line from here."

"That wasn't a pickup line. A pickup line would be something like…" I leaned on the bar, adopting an exaggerated smooth voice. "They say dating is a numbers game. Can I get yours?"

She snorted a laugh. "That's terrible."

"Exactly. Which is why I stick to genuine curiosity and mediocre bartending."

"You really want to know?" I nodded. "My divorce was finalized this morning, and I spent tonight celebrating my friend, Kali's, engagement." Her gaze dropped to her empty shot glass sitting on the bar. "It's not that I'm not super happy for her, it's just…"

She didn't need to finish that sentence; I understood. She was happy for her friend but sad for herself. I'd been divorced. I knew all the emotions that surrounded it. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," she shook her head. "I've had a few months to come to terms with it. I'm more upset about everything he said, and I can't help but think maybe he was right."

"About?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line as her hazy eyes assessed me. "Can I ask you something?" Her voice had gone quieter.

"Shoot."

"Do you think the dating world is harder for… Women like me?"

I set down the bottle I'd been holding. "Women who drink tequila straight and call out bad pickup lines? Definitely. You're intimidating as hell."

She gave me a look, but the corners of her lips twitched like she was fighting a smile. "You know what I mean." My brows furrowed. I had no idea what she meant because, honestly, the dating world was brutal for everyone. "Do you think the dating world is harder for plus-size women?"

My head recoiled, and my brows slammed together. "Is that what he said to you?"

"I'm sorry," she sighed, her gaze dropping to her hands resting on the bar. "I don't even know why I asked you that. I think I've had too much to drink."

The realization that this woman had been burned and was still recovering hit me square in the chest. She didn't need a man to ask her out because of a bet; she needed a friend.

"I think there is someone out there for everyone," I answered with confidence, and her eyes met mine. "I think that there is someone who will love every inch of your perfect body the way it is, and if he doesn't appreciate," my gaze dropped to her full breasts as my tongue swept out, wetting my dry lips, "every one of your curves, then you didn't find the one yet."

Swallowing hard, she nodded. "Thank you," she smiled. "I'm Brooke."

"Matt," I smiled. "I get off in a few minutes, and I was going to grab something to eat at the diner across the street. Do you want to join me?"

"It's one A.M.," she chuckled.

"I'm starving, and you look like you could use something solid after all that liquid."

She narrowed her eyes. "Depends," she shrugged. "Is this a pity invite?"

My eyes softened. "No," I shook my head, and I meant that with every ounce of my being. I wanted to get to know her. I wanted to spend more time with her.

"Then yes, I would love to join you."

I gave myself a mental high-five as I walked away to find Ricky. I quickly thanked him and met Brooke near the exit. I rolled my eyes as the guys hooted and hollered as we walked out, but she didn't seem to notice.

Chapter 3

The Walk of Shame