Free Spirit

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Chapter 19

Paddy

I wasn’t much of a drinker. Which meant I probably had a pretty low tolerance level. After the first two shots of tequila, I stopped worrying about it. Or anything at all really.

“Rough night, pal?” the bartender asked.

“You could say that.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Fair enough.”

“Some dickhead just proposed to the woman I love,” I mumbled, emptying the glass of whiskey he put in front of me.

“Oh yeah. Reefer’s drummer, wasn’t it?”

“The one and only.”

“Why would he propose to your girl?”

“She’s not mine.”

“Hm. Does she know how you feel about her?”

“Yep.”

“And she left with him?”

“Yep.”

“Ouch.”

“Yep.”

He refilled my glass with a sympathetic smile. “You’re gonna need some more of this.”

“Damn right,” I muttered. “Keep ’em coming.”

“That’s the nice thing about working here,” he chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about people driving drunk.”

“I suppose not.” I tossed back the shot, wincing when it burned a path down my esophagus. “I don’t know what she sees in that guy.”

“He’s rich and famous?”

“I’m rich.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. My family owns a bunch of funeral homes. I’m an only child. It will all be mine someday.”

“Nice.”

“Yep.”

“What happened to the chick who came up here with Osk?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” I mumbled. “Silicone Princess. I forgot all about her.”

Silicone Princess?”

“Yeah. We don’t know her name.”

“So you nicknamed her after her fake tits?”

“Pretty much.”

He shook his head, chuckling as he wiped down the bar. I slid my glass toward him. He topped me up, his smile disappearing when he glanced over my shoulder. “Unh-uh. No way. Not in here. You’re gonna have to take your shit outside.”

I turned my head when Osk took the stool next to me. “What the fuck do you want?”

“To talk to you.”

I drained my glass, pushing it toward the bartender for a refill. “I got nothing to say to you.”

“Look man, I didn’t know you guys had a thing going. If I did, I would’ve never done that. I’m not an asshole. I like you, Paddy Wagon. You’re my friend. And I don’t mess with my friends’ girls. That’s not cool.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I thought you guys were just pretending,” he explained. “But Alexis told me you’re in love with her, and you two slept together.”

“Whoa.” I held my hand up so my palm was facing me. The bartender reached across and turned it around. “Thanks, man. Hit me with some more shots. But not tequila. Something else. Something sweet. Something sweet to eat. Like my beautiful girl this asshole stole from me.”

“I didn’t steal her, Paddy Wagon.”

“Whoa.” I raised my hand again, my palm facing the right way this time. “Whoa. Two things. How did you know we were pretending?”

“Cleo.”

“That eavesdropping little fart.”

“Yeah. She told me the day after the wedding.”

“Alexis told you I’m in love with her?”

“Yup.”

“I never told her that,” I grumbled. “Why is she going around telling people that? Who assumes someone is in love with them, and starts telling people, without checking with the person doing the in loving?”

The bartender lined up six shot glasses, filling them with a white, creamy liquid. Osk snagged one, dumping the contents down his throat.

“That looks like jizz,” I laughed.

“Dude!” he cried. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“Whoa.” I raised my hand, twisting my wrist back and forth. “Why are you here? Where’s Alexis?”

“After she ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped on it, Hannah and Reef took her back to their cabin.”

“She turned you down?”

He emptied two more shot glasses. I slid the other three out of his reach. They were mine.

“Give me some straight liquor, Mr. Barkeeper,” Osk ordered. “Please and thank you. No more cum shots. Set me up with some tequila.”

“She turned you down?” I repeated.

“Yeah man.”

“Why?”

“Dunno,” he mumbled, tossing back the tequila.

“Don’t you need the lemon?” I asked.

“Nah.”

“What did she say?”

“Chick shit I don’t understand.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, man,” he whined. “Something about finding herself or some damn shit. I didn’t even know I was in love with her until tonight.”

“You just decided out of the blue?”

“No. Dorothy told me.”

“Who the hell is Dorothy?”

“My girlfriend?”

The bartender threw his head back, a deep rumble of laughter erupting from his beer belly. I joined him, almost tipping sideways off my stool.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Osk asked.

“We didn’t know what her name was,” I explained. “So we nicknamed her Silicone Princess.”

He blinked, his confused expression morphing into a wide grin when he finally made the connection. “That’s fucked up, Paddy Wagon.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fucking hilarious. Her tits feel like two sacks of potatoes. They are way too firm. And they don’t fucking move.”

“Alexis’s tits are real,” I sighed. “And amazing.”

“Right on, they are, dude.”

“Soft and creamy,” I murmured. “It felt so good to bury my face in them. And I’ll never have that experience again.”

“Dude, you’re killing me.”

“Why?”

“She just turned down my marriage proposal. I will definitely never motorboat those babies ever again. At least you still have hope.”

“Do I?”

“I dunno.”

“Do you see her anywhere? If she wanted me, she’d be here now.”

“I dunno, man,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Women are complicated.”

“No kidding.”

“It’s just you and me, Paddy Wagon. Might as well drink the pain away.”

“Sounds like a plan, Oscar Meyer Weiner.”




“Alaska is so fucked up,” Osk muttered, staring up through the trees at the colourful sky. “It never gets dark.”

“Are you sure this is the right way to your cabin?” I asked, tripping over a tree root.

“Yeah, dude,” he laughed, grabbing my arm and saving me from a face-plant. “I’m not that wasted.”

“I am,” I mumbled. “I’m fucked up.”

“You’ll be fine once you sleep it off.”

We stumbled up the steps to the cabin. Osk pushed open the door and walked in ahead of me.

“Oh fuck,” he laughed. “You might wanna cover your eyes, Paddy Wagon.”

“Why?” I stepped inside, blinking as I glanced around the dark cabin.

The familiar aroma of rose incense overwhelmed my senses. My mother loved that stuff. She had a different one for every occasion and mood. And rose meant go to your room and put on some headphones.

Soft music was playing, the fire casting a warm glow across the cabin.

And two chicks were on the bed in a sixty-nine.

Osk elbowed me with a sly grin, bringing his finger up to his lips. I watched porn from time to time. But I was never into the girl-on-girl stuff. They were really going at it. Moaning and slurping.

The room tilted. Or I guess maybe that was me. I dropped into a chair at the small wooden table. The two chicks jumped up at the sound of the chair scraping across the floor.

Tits.

Oh my God, the tits.

Tits everywhere.

A set of really gross potato sacks, and a set of gravity defying wonders bounced around while they scrambled off the bed.

The owner of the real boobs smiled at me. “Hi there, cutie pie,” she drawled.

“Bird girl?” I gasped.

She nodded her head, her red braids bobbing up and down over her huge pink nipples.

“Oh man,” I groaned, dropping my head to the table. “This is not happening. It’s the tequila fucking with my head.”

“It’s not the booze,” Osk chuckled, slapping me on the back. “It’s real. And those knockers are definitely real.”

“I’m guessing she didn’t say yes,” Dorothy surmised.

“She broke my heart, babe,” Osk said.

“Oh Oskar,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, honey. What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Nothing.” He dropped into the other chair with a heavy sigh.

I lifted my head slowly, praying all the boobs and pussy would disappear.

No such luck.

They were circling like cock hungry vultures.

Get out, man.

Get out now!

“I think we need to suck off these boys, Eliza,” Dorothy suggested.

“No thanks,” I said. “I’m all good.”

“You’re not good,” Eliza whispered, rubbing my shoulders. “You’re sad.”

“Nope. Just drunk.”

She leaned in close to my ear, her breath triggering a wave of nausea when I realized what it was I was smelling.

“I’ll let you fuck me in the ass,” she whispered.

“I’m outta here,” I declared, pushing back my chair.

When I stood up, the room started spinning again. A warm hand led me to the bed. I didn’t want to go. But my brain wasn’t getting the message to my feet. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I passed out.

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