Free In Too Deep by Eliza Jane Page A

my back, and propels me toward the door. He skillfully slips the bouncer a twenty, and the doors are pulled open for us.
    Oh .
    Once inside, the smell of beer and cheap perfume overwhelm me. I stay close to Colt’s side. He walks toward the back of the bar, ignoring the stares being directed our way. He acts like he’s been here a thousand times before and settles at a semi-secluded high top table in the corner.
    Once we’re seated, I have the chance to really look around. The place is pretty small, one long bar running the length of the room, with a few scattered tables and a mess of stools. The crowd here is young, well, not our age young, but appropriate bar-age young. A cluster of guys mill around a pool table near us, a few girls sway to the too-loud music on the dance floor on the far side of the room. And people everywhere stand around talking, sipping drinks, and laughing out loud.
    Colt’s eyes are roaming, just like mine, but for a different reason. Once he spots the waitress, he waves her over. She saunters up to our table, her eyes full of lust for Colt. “What can I getcha?”
    Colt turns to me. Reluctantly, the waitress’ eyes follow. Now they are both looking at me. My mind goes completely blank. I’ve never been to a bar and ordered for myself before. Beer? Wine? Liquor? But what kind? I was about to ask for a water when Colt comes to my rescue.
    “We’ll both take a vodka tonic. Belvedere if you have it.”
    She nods once and turns on her heel.
    “Thanks,” I mumble once she’s gone.
    Colt nods, his eyes scanning the crowd. I watch him scope out the girls, wondering which is his type. The waitress returns with our drinks, and I test a sip. It’s bitter and stiff. I choke down it down, wondering how people actually enjoy this. Colt removes the straw from his glass, and takes a gulp, draining half its contents.
    I force down another swig, then slide the drink away from me. “So anyone catching your eye?”
    Colt looks up, like I’ve interrupted some private thought. “Are we seriously doing this?” his voice hints at boredom.
    “What about her?” I nod toward the bleach blonde swaying her hips alone on the center of the dance floor. She’s in skin tight jeans torn at the knees and a hot pink halter top. Just trashy enough for a one night stand with being overtly skanky. A perfect choice for him.
    He pulls his eyebrows together and shakes his head.
    “What’s wrong with her?”
    He glares at me. It’s strange how expressive he is without speaking a single word. He takes another drink, draining the rest of his glass. “We are not picking out my next victim together.” He offers a sly smile. Oh, this boy is trouble. With a capital T.
    I stir the ice cubes in mine with the straw. “So who’s your choice?”
    His eyes fix on mine and stay there for what feels like too long.
    I roll my eyes. “Colt, I’m serious, this is why we’re here. We need to get you out of your shitty mood, and I’ve been around you long enough to know this is how it’s done.”
    He finally drops his eyes from mine, and looks around. “Fine.” He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. I watch him scan the room. “Her.” He nods toward the bar.
    I turn around to glance in that direction, trying not to be too obvious. The girl he’s looking at is a brunette with pretty, yet plain looks, jeans, sandals and a long sleeved T-shirt. She certainly doesn’t stand out amongst the overly made-up girls trying hard to get noticed. This girl is actively trying not to be noticed if you ask me. Very little make up, hair back in a low ponytail, nothing spectacular about her. She actually reminds me a lot of, well…me.
    I reach for my drink and take another sip, fumbling with the straw. I don’t know what Colt sees in her, most guys probably wouldn’t give her a second glance, not with the busty blondes putting on a show on the dance floor.
    “Her?” I double check, thinking I must have the wrong girl.
    His eyes