she asks. I didn’t know her name, did not care to ask what it was. All I knew was for the last fifteen minutes she would not shut the fuck up. Plus, Camo wasn’t answering my texts, and I was moody because of it. She didn’t do radio silence. “Why?” “Because you keep looking at everything but me,” she pouts. “It’s rude.” “Then leave,” I tell her. Something was off. Camo felt closer than usual. Like she was within feet of me. And it fucked with me to know that if she was, I wouldn’t spot her. I didn’t want her seeing me with this broad, and considering this bar was packed she could be anywhere, watching. And fuck me, she could here…on a God damn date. The thought of that set me off. “Are you serious?” “Jesus, you are a fucking nag,” I snap. “You wanted a drink, met you for a drink. You wanted to fuck; I was down to fuck. Had I known you were a chatty bitch, I’d have jacked off and saved myself the headache.”
