The closer I get to the bar, the more my knees began to shake. A girl like me doesn’t belong in this kind of establishment. I can hardly call it that. It’s more like a hole in the wall for the toughest bikers and the women that fall at their feet. So why am I, a 22-year-old Veterinarian assistant, going into this place? Well, it’s quite simple. I was dared to by my best friend who is getting married tomorrow. As part of her bachelorette party, she dared me to walk into the bar and get a biker to buy me a drink. Silly, I know. But here I am. Knees shaking, heart thudding, and stomach turning. The moment I walk in, I’m going to be eaten alive.
Half drunk and afraid, I approach the door only to be stopped by a tall pudgy man. “Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?”
“Am I not allowed in this bar?” I try to keep my voice from trembling as I tug on the end of the dress I’m wearing. Though the man seems harmless in size, his tone makes me want to run for the hills. Why did I agree to do this?
“Baby, you look like you’re just barely 18. Now unless you have some ID, I suggest you leave.” He shoots me a smirk and I frown. Yes, my height and looks make me appear younger, but 18?
Reaching in my bra, I whip out my ID and the guy’s eyes light up at the sight. “Here, I’m not 18”
He looks at the card then looks at me. “Hmm, sweet young thing. You sure you can handle what’s in there? This ain’t the place to meet a husband”
The man chuckles, but I stand my ground, knowing from the bar across the street I’m being watched by my friends. When the man finally takes me seriously, he opens the door. “Go on in, sweets. Don’t say I didn’t warn you”
When my friends across the street see me going in, they hoot and holler. Taking a deep breath, I walk in and the sounds of pool balls knocking and beer bottles clacking fill my ear as well as the roar of men taking. As I pace inside, a few eyes fall on me. I hear men start to whistle and catcall which only makes me more nervous.
“Hey, baby, your daddy ain’t in here” One guy says and I fight to ignore him. What does my father have to do with anything?
“Go home to your dollhouse, little girl” A woman says as she passes me, looking me up and down as if she’s better than me. I glance out the corner of my eye and raise an eyebrow. She looks like she’s too old to be here and with the two sets of footprint tattoos on her, I’d say she needs to be at home with her kids instead of this honkey tonk of a bar.
The closer I get to the bar, the more people start to say things. They can see right through me. Clearly, I look like some poser trying to be cool and come in here. Trust me, if it were up to me I’d be across the street at the calm bar where you can play karaoke and drink something fruity.
Holding my head up, I take a seat at the bar and a tattooed woman approaches me from behind the bar. “You don’t look like you’re from around here”
“I...I don’t usually come here” I smile, tugging on the end of the dress again. God, why did I let Courtney put me in this stripper mess from her single days? It’s too tight, too short, and too flashy for me. I initially wore a light yellow dress that stopped on my knees, but when she laid eyes on me, she basically snatched it off of me.
A smirk grows on her lips and she nods “Obviously. What can I get you?”
“Nothing. I’m going to wait for one of these nice gentlemen to buy me a drink”
The woman looks around before laughing “Honey, you ain’t gonna find a gentleman in here. These men wouldn’t know manners if it grabbed their dicks”
I’m about to open my mouth and say something when a figure appears next to me grabbing me by my elbow. Turning in the bar stool, I look up at the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. His hair is black and long, piled on his head in a man bun. Tattoos are traveling down his arms and up his neck. His eyes are dark and deep, but he looks angry. I’ve only been here for two minutes.
“Who let you in here? This bar is for bikers. Go back across the street and get a virgin daiquiri” His lips press into a fine line as my eyes widen in shock. Who the heck is he talking to?
“Excuse me. You don’t even know me. How dare you.” I shake my head and it spins from the many drinks I’ve already had with the rest of the bridal party.
“You don’t belong here, cupcake” he groans, his voice deep and husky.
“Says who? And I’m not a cupcake.” I cross my arms, trying to keep my heart from jumping out my chest and hitting the floor.
“Says me. Now leave” He goes to grab my arm, but I yank it away. Drunk or not, I don’t like being touched by douchebags who think they own me. No way, bud. I don’t care how sexy you are. Okay, I care a little, but still.
“You don’t own me. Keep your grimy hands off of me. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Clearly, liquid courage was taking over. This man is going to throw me out on my butt. The man looks at me and suddenly he leans in. I lean back until I feel myself about to fall off the bar stool. I grab onto the edge as he nears me.
“This ain’t a place to find a bad boy, baby. I suggest you leave before one of my boys makes a woman out of you. You look too pure to be in here” This time his voice lacks the edge it had early. It isn’t as harsh.
“Look, I’m only in here for a second. I just need someone to buy me a drink so I can complete the dare. It’s for my friend’s bachelorette party. That’s all. I’m not looking for anything else. I’m not looking for a bad boy or a boyfriend. No one in here is my type. So please, either back away or buy me a drink, mister because I’m not leaving.” Suddenly, my hand raises against my wishes and pokes the guy on the shoulder. As soon as it happens, I stop breathing. What the heck is wrong with me? Do I have a death wish?