Free Life Before Damaged Vol. 10 (The Ferro Family) by H. M. Ward

do that. I can have a good time and laugh even though I wish I were at home, on my mom’s couch, crying like a baby. No, it’s fine. I can totally do this and Beth’s right. Just because I go inside, doesn’t mean I have to go through with it. I can chicken out.
    Beth and I walk in and I instantly feel eyes on me. They travel over my body, overtly sizing me up. I won’t be shy and timid. Not tonight. As Beth and I head toward a table, I notice a guy looking me over and suddenly I don’t mind so much. Being desired feels good. We sit down at a table and order drinks. We sip and talk about nothing for a while. I’m not seeing the right guy and I don’t want to have sex with someone that doesn’t give me a good vibe. I don’t want a pushy guy. Actually, I prefer shy guys and realize this whole ‘ wanna do me?’ thing might not work on a shyer man.
    Josh tries to join us, but Beth shoos him away, so he takes up residence at another table that quickly fills with women. How did he do that? He smiles a lot and has this lazy body language that seems to act like girl-nip. They go crazy for it.
    After two hours, I’m ready to call it quits. “There’s no one here that’s even close to my type.”
    Beth slurps the bottom of her daiquiri. “He doesn’t have to be your type.”
    “Are you seriously advocating that I do it with an ug-o?”
    Beth snorts and nearly chokes. “No! That’s not what I meant.”
    “Good, otherwise I’d have to worry about you trying to pawn me off on one of the janitors in the dorm.”
    She grins wickedly. “That was my plan for tomorrow night.”
    “Loser,” I tease and shake my head.
    “I’m not the one who can’t get laid,” she laughs. It’s weird how fast she feels like a friend. I kick her under the table. “Hey!”
    “I can so get laid! I just want him to be…” my eyes drift across the room and I see him – Mr. Right. A guy is sitting alone at a back corner table, wearing a red ball cap. His face is downcast and there’s a sketchpad in front of him. My voice dies in my throat as I stare. He’s perfect.
    Beth turns around in her seat. “Seriously?”
    I pull my eyes off of him just as he looks up. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”
    “Nothing, if you like that serial killer vibe.”
    “He’s an artist.”
    “Ten bucks says there’s nothing drawn in that sketch pad.”
    I don’t like her bashing my mystery man. “No, he’s not using that as a ploy. He’s real.”
    Beth is trying not to laugh. “You are so naïve.”
    “I am not.” I say it dreamily as I watch him move the pencil across the paper, and then flip it over, smudging the page with the eraser.
    “Okay, so let’s make a bet. If he’s a fake, I win and you have to buy me a piece of cake. If he’s a real artist, then you win and you have to ask him. Deal?” I don’t answer. Instead, I squirm in my seat and try not to look at him. “What’s the matter? If he’s the artsy type, you found what you were looking for. If he isn’t, I get cake. It’s a good bet.”
    “She won’t do it.” Josh suddenly appears. He’s standing next to Beth and smiles at me in that smug way that only truly spoiled men can pull off. “She doesn’t have it in her.”
    “You’re an asshole.” My gaze flicks up and meets his, while Beth laughs.
    “I know. I’m okay with it. But, you’re a nice girl, and you’ll stay that way. There’s no way you can work up enough nerve to walk over there and ask that guy to sleep with you.”
    “Yeah, well watch me.” Who said that? My pride is whooping and slapping me on my back.
    Suddenly, I’m out of my seat and making a beeline toward Mystery Man. He’s concentrating on his drawing and doesn’t look up. I’m so nervous, I want to die. What if he shoots me down? What if he just laughs? I don’t think I could bear it. Stop thinking! Just say it. Just say it. Don’t wait for him to look up. Don’t wait for him to have a chance to say anything. Just spit it