Private Message (2 page)

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Authors: Danielle Torella

Tags: #Romance, #Young Adult, #Contemporary

BOOK: Private Message
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She smacks her forehead. "Duh, sorry, I can be rude!" She holds out her other hand. "I'm Erin, I didn't mean to be pushy. You just looked confused reading the sign and I thought I'd come over and show you the ropes." She smiles.

I shake her hand. "Tess, and it's all right. I am curious."

"OK, so you see the scan code on the sign? You use your phone to capture it and it'll bring you to the bar's login page."

"Login page?"

"Yeah you need to create an account with a username and password, anything particular you want to be called or a nickname? Something you like to do?"

"Uh, I don't know, I just normally use my name and add a number." Judging by the look on her face, that was not good enough.

"Eh." She shrugs. "We can do better than that. Come on, give me something!"

"I like to paint and read."

"Really? That's all you can give me?" She sounds whiny.
Hey, I only came in here to relax and I'm being pressured by a complete stranger about making a screen name? Where am I?

"Well, what's your username?" I can throw the questions just as well as she can.

She looks me square in the eye. "LuckyCharm."

It's fitting, because of her waist-length red hair and heavily lined wide green eyes.

"So you need a name that will help you stand out in a crowd like this," Erin says.

I take notice of the plush lounge setting behind me. The room is decorated in dark walls, jewel-toned velvet sofas and chairs, and women in cocktail dresses and mile-high "fuck-me" heels. The guys aren't too bad either: dress shirts, ties, full suits for some.
Where the hell am I?

"Hello? Are you thinking of a name?" Erin pulls me from my observations, and the fact I am definitely out of my element. I'm wearing skinny jeans and a concert tee and Converse sneakers, with my hair pulled back into a low messy ponytail, for cryin' out loud!

"BEEP!" she yells. "Time's up! Here." She hands back my phone. I see the screen of other users and a name at the bottom by the text field.

"Punky_Painter?" I ask.

"Yup! You didn't want to answer me so I got bored and did it for you. And judging by your band shirt and that you like to paint … Voila! You like?" Wow, she is a persistent thing.

"Yeah, that works, considering I'll probably never be back," I tell her. "I just stopped in to have a couple drinks and chill out, before going back to my place to work on a project and read."

"Well, in that case, the next drink is on me," Erin says.

Moments later, I have a second rum-and-coke while she sips at a margarita, She leads me to a deep red love seat and begins talking about all the people here, like she knows everyone.

"So the idea and concept is that in chat you're more secure and willing to let go. You can choose to be anyone you want to be. You call the shots on if you want to leave with someone, if not, then the person will just move on. We all have an understanding here that in the chat room we don't 'know' each other, that we think of it as role play…but we know who each other really is."

"See that girl?" Erin points to a blonde across the room, and points at my screen. "That's her, 'lawless45.'" She goes on to point out everyone in the place and their screen names. I look at the guys in the place. Aren't they supposed to be making their rounds, trying to get numbers and drop some panties? Rather than sitting on their phones?

I watch the conversations happening on my screen. There's a lot of flirting, dates being set up, people talking about hooking up, some asking another join a "private chat," and then the two names disappear. Every now and then I notice a guy or two adjusting themselves in their seats and their pants. What is going on in those PM messages?

Erin points to another name on my screen. "See that name? 'slippery_when_wet69'?"
OK, seriously? That's just too forward. Where's the mystery?
"Yeah, I know her name is so lame, right?" I swear she can read my mind.

"Anyways, she's been with just about every guy in the room, except him." Erin discreetly nods at a guy in a dim-lit corner. She points to a name on my screen.

I roll my eyes as I read it aloud "Big_Ben? Seriously?" I know my facial expression has got to be a mix of red and contorted in the most awkward way. I try to get a better look at him, but it's so goddamned dark in this place. What makes him so immune to the girl's obvious texts?

 

Slippery_when_wet69:
Big_Ben come home with me baby

 

Big_Ben:
Oh I don't think so

 

Slippery_when_wet69:
oh common why not? *pouty face*

 

Big_Ben:
you know why. Now move on to your next prey.

 

Huh, that's amusing to watch, especially since by the look on her face it appears she's been bitch-slapped with a meat tenderizer. And a minute later she's leaving with a guy I assume she did get her claws into. I continue to watch the "action" unfold on my phone while making small talk with Erin. Is everyone mind-fucking someone in here?

Erin breaks my train of thought. "Yeah, Big_Ben doesn't private-message with anyone, he's straightforward with the skanks of the place, and he usually leaves with one, or on a good night, two." She shrugs. "Yeah, I have seen so many of the girls here complaining about it."

"Oh" is all I could conjure up.

Erin and I continue chatting for a while; we seemed to hit it off quite easily. She goes to the same community college as me, but she's a business major and the business department is on the opposite end of campus, so that's why we have never run into one another. She tells me how she likes to come to "Chatz" for their margaritas and to just "shit around" with the guys' heads. She tells me she will only occasionally hook up with a guy, usually because of one too many margaritas, which she seems to be doing this evening seeing she's on her third now. I look at my watch and see its about midnight and decide it's time to head home.
God, I am so lame, I am not a late person, let alone one who sits at a bar all night.

I keep my focus on this Big_Ben character, why? I'm not even sure, maybe it's my second rum and Coke doing me in. Damn, I'm such a lightweight. He seems to be chatting up a couple different users.

 

2Much4u2nite:
Hey Big_Ben why don't you come back to my place and I can prove my name to you?

 

Big_Ben:
Well that depends, so why don't you get up and walk to the bar and I can check out what we're talking about on display?

 

OK, seriously? Eew.

Just then a tall (Of course she's tall! Who isn't tall compared to my five-foot frame?) woman stalks to the bar, shaking her ass, letting it sway. I notice Erin watching too and she nudges my shoulder and rolls her eyes.

 

Big_Ben:
Door.

 

Just as he sends that message, Miss J-Lo Booty grabs her clutch and exits. Thirty seconds later he moves from his dark corner, walks in front of Erin and myself. All that is holy and divine, he's tall, slender, dark hair and
oh my god he smells fiiiiiine… yup one too many rums…
I watch him walk to the door, and just before he pushes through, he looks right at me and I swear my heart stopped. And his face is just as glorious as his body. Strong jaw, deep but warm mocha eyes, full pouty suckable lips. His black hair screams heartbreaker. He smirks, a seriously panty-dropping smirk, and it looks devilish.
Pleasure party for one tonight! When I get home tonight greeeaaat... And then he's gone.

"Hey, Erin, I am going to get going home. It's getting late and I would much rather curl up with my book boyfriend," I announce and stand.

She "boos" me. But grabs my phone, types something in, and hands it back. "There, now you have my number, text me anytime."

I nod and give a shy wave.

At home, text Erin to let her know I got home safe and to text me the next time she's going to Chatz. As I'm setting my phone down I notice that I never logged out of the bar's chat room before leaving.

"1 Private Message"

Curious, I click it, and it's from Big_Ben:
never seen you at Chatz before

 

I've been here all of ten minutes. I barely get my drink and the women are already feisty, trying to get my attention in the room. Not that I'm irritated by that fact, but after just leaving a room full of strangers staring and scrutinizing every inch of my body, I needed a few minutes to unwind. It's a little different being checked out here at a bar, because, well, let's face it, even I know I'm fucking sexy, but when you have people who are not even looking at you wanting to have sex with you, it's a little disconcerting. But my dad's new girlfriend needed a "volunteer" for her class tonight, seeing as her original setup had an emergency, and she was desperate. Man, you know how to pick 'em, Dad…

Mum passed away giving birth to my little sister Caroline when I was ten years old. I was an angry kid for a while after that, getting sent to the principal's office for fighting often and half the time, the other kid didn't even do anything wrong. What pissed me off the most was hearing the other boys talk crap about their mums for not letting them do something or have what they want. Fucking wankers were lucky to have mums. After I was expelled from two different private schools, my father was offered a job as head chief of the surgical unit at Seattle's top hospital, and we moved to the States.

Living in London, I was doing nothing but getting in trouble, and I honestly didn't give a crap on where we were going, I was fifteen when we moved. And that's when I got introduced to my best friend Dan, who was looking to start a garage band and he thought that having a dude with an accent like mine would help in the ladies' department, so that's when I learned how to play bass guitar. After that, music is the only thing that calms me down.

The hard part will be looking at my father's new girlfriend in the eye on Sunday at family dinner. I'm shaking my head in embarrassment. Yes, embarrassment. I strut to a dark area of the bar, needing to be alone for a few minutes before I give in to one these tight little bodies eyeing me. That's right, ladies, keep looking.

In a dark emerald green chair, I let my head rest on the back and close my eyes for a few seconds. I take a sip of my beer and look at my phone to see what's going on tonight. Let's see, three PM requests. Please ladies you should all know me by now decline, decline, decline… Offer number one:

 

TinaTaTa:
Hey Big_Ben any planes tonight? Want to tuck me in ;) ?

 

Kelly84:
oh don't waste your time TinaTaTa he's coming home with me tonight, arnt ya baby?

 

Wow, they are fighting over me already? Maybe I can make this work to my advantage. I wasn't looking for a threesome tonight, but I'm a trooper.

 

Big_Ben:
Ladies look I am here to relax tonight, but who know maybe you two might want create a group effort?

 

TinaTaTa:
Sorry Big_Ben but I don't like to share.

 

Aw, too bad, Tina, we could have had some fun together. Oh well, your loss, not mine…
hey where did Miss Possessive go off to?
PM most likely, whatever.
The door opens and a girl I've never seen before sits at the bar. Huh. Jeans, really, here? Doesn't she know where she's at? Oh, God, that chatty LuckyCharm girl is chatting her up now.

They head to the sitting area across the room from me. Holy crap, she's short!
Compared to the redheaded chick and most of the other women here she's gotta be almost a foot shorter than the rest…kinda cute…where the fuck did that come from?

Oh, great. Slippery_When_Wet69 is harassing me once again. How many times do I need to tell this girl that I am not interested? After what she pulled on Dan, why would I want to even share a sofa with her? Dan was one of my closest friends all through high school and even worked with me at the same magazine until he requested a location change, because he was seeing her and she was screwing around on him so much she got an STD and gave it to Dan, which thankfully he was able to catch in time. And that's only because I overheard her talking on her cell to the doctor one night outside Chatz while I was coming in for an early happy hour. "What do you mean, crabs? I can't have that. I have a boyfriend! And I barely have hair down there!" Yeah, she's that dense too. But she's been trying to get me in between the sheets for a while now. Or, hell, she'd be happy with a quickie in the alley by the trash cans.

I can't stop looking over at her, the new girl. She's so out of her element here. She's actually wearing sneakers, Chucks nonetheless. I imagine her little ass in a pair of six-inch heels, and those glasses…
Miniskirt, fuck me, my dick is twitching, what is up with me tonight?
Usually it takes a big rack and tight dress to get me all tight-panted. There's just something different about her.

Crap, I better get out of here, before I do something lame and stupid like walk over to her, ha! I can just see her face now.

 

2Much4u2nite:
Hey Big_Ben why don't you come back to my place and I can prove my name to you?

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