The brown-eyed man in the business suit wasn’t my type at all, but he caught my eye across the bar, and I figured a conversation and a bit of playful banter was better than sitting alone like a lump. I had spent the past hour scanning the crowds at Revere’s and growing more impatient with every passing minute.

I was good-looking, damnit. Didn’t smell funny or anything. My confidence — that thing everyone said was sexy — was bolted firmly in place. Well, it had been before coming home to find Louis moaning under that biker with the tattoo of a bull on his backside. It was all I had seen of the guy, but it had been enough.

By the time I settled onto the stool next to the guy at the bar, I knew I wouldn’t get much from him. He repeated the ‘not interested’ refrain as expected before he suddenly jumped up to talk to someone he worked with near the dance floor. My gaze followed his to a spike-haired blond looking all kinds of adorable. We strolled over, but my hopes were dashed once again when I spotted the man hanging all over the object of my interest.

Fluorescent turquoise tank stretched over his trim muscles. Pink gloss colored his thick lips. If that was the type the half-nerd, half-punk darling went for, I had no hope. I glanced down at my outfit. Beige. Navy. I melted back into the crowd with a sigh. Maybe somewhere I could find another man boring and bored enough to take a chance on me.

The post A Side Story From Revere’s appeared first on Leah Meers.