How To Get The Girl

Chapter One

☼    J A C K S O N     ☼

I saw her across the bar, her head thrown back in laughter, her eyes shining from something her friends had said. When she sobered up, she caught my eye from across the room, and another smile stretched across her lips. I felt my lips tug in a tentative smile back, and she turned to whisper something to her friends, who then glanced at me and giggled.

"Dude," Brayden nudges me. "Go talk to her."

I eye him warily. "I don't think so."

He rolls his eyes at me. "Come on, Jackson, don't assume you're going to strike out. Just go give it a shot, would you? Buy her a drink."

He nods his head towards the girls and shoves me off my stool at the bar. I call him an asshole under my breath and look over again, and see her sitting alone, her friends walking toward the pool table in the back corner. I take a deep breath before walking toward her, my eyes trained on the brown haired woman looking down at her phone.

Cautiously, I slid in the stool beside her, and her hazel eyes looked up at me. I offer her a smile and start off, "Hey."

She smiles too and puts her phone face down on the bar. "Hey."

"I saw you from over there and my friend told me to come say hi," I say before I can think, and then inwardly cringe at my awkwardness. "So hi."

She raises her eyebrows. "You said hi already."

"Uh, right," I clear my throat awkwardly, and cast a glance over at Brayden. He lifts his drink in the air and I look at her again. "So, can I buy you a drink?"

She lifts her cup with clear liquid and says, "I don't drink."

I laugh outright at this and ask incredulously, "Why the hell are you at a bar if you don't drink?That sounds pretty stupid."

The girl, whose name I still haven't even asked for, looks taken aback by my words before anger becomes apparent on her features. My amusement quickly fades when I see her begin to gather her phone in her purse before turning to me with an icy glare.

"Because I'm a recovering alcoholic, and my AA sponsor says learning how to go to the bar and control your urges is good for recovery," She stands up and, with a flick of her wrist, lifts the rest of her water above my head and lets it dump all over my hair. "I don't want a drink, but you can have mine, asshole."

With that, she stomps away to her friends, leaving me with water dripping down my forehead, and half of the bar staring at me. I take a deep breath and walk back toward Brayden, fall down on the stool beside him, and take a long swig of my beer. His shoulders were shaking with laughter he was poorly trying to conceal, and I knew he was seconds away from exploding when I told him what the reason was this time.

I set my beer down and wipe my wetness off my forehead, then glance at Brayden. "I offered to buy a drink for a recovering alcoholic."

As I expected, Brayden burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but chuckle a little at my own misfortune. When he finally sobered up, he asks, "Did you at least get her name?"

"Nope," I answer with a sigh.

He shakes his head and laughs a little again. "Dude, you are truly horrible at talking to girls."

I finished my beer and muttered, "Tell me about it."