Just Once More

Finished with the lavender eye shadow, Brooke Pallinger finished off the last of her peach cider before clipping up her soft dark hair into a playful tuft, letting her bangs cover her brow and haphazard tendrils frame her enrouged cheeks. She had gone shopping that afternoon and was dressing up in her new acquisitions. A lavender sweater with a wide and deep v-neck showed off the blatant swell of cleavage C-cupped in her new black lace shelf bra. Brooke normally didn't show so much but she knew that Tommy would like the view. Her breasts had always excited him. She wore the top tucked into the waist of a short pleated skirt, intricately and randomly speckled with fine pink on matte black, and cinched it with a thick funky leather belt. From there down things got racier. Never proud of her legs (especially her thick thighs) the fishnet stockings made her nervous, but despite her inhibitions it was what had to be done. She had always refused to dress so provocatively no matter how much Tommy had encouraged her to do so. She had denied him the entire ten months that they had been together. Now after three months apart she was willing.

During those three depressing months Lauryn had kept pestering her to go out only for Brooke to stay home and sulk in her loneliness. Now that she had finally given up on trying to cheer up her jilted friend, Lauryn was initially reluctant when Brooke had twisted her arm for a night out.

"Oh my God, Brooke!" said Lauryn when she saw her outfit. "Where did this come from?"

"Oh, some new things," Brooke answered nonchalantly as she opened the door with the next bottle of cider in her hand. If she hadn't already been rather tipsy she wouldn't have had the courage to present herself so. She handed Lauryn a cider.

Back at the bathroom mirror, Brooke added a pair of two-and-a-half-inch silver hoop earrings. Then she sat down on the sofa where Lauryn had turned on the television and slipped on her new boots. They were little black velvet ankle boots with a folded cuff and small heel.

"Nancy said they're probably going to Shakes," said Lauryn, her thick dark curls streaked blonde. She was a pixie in tight faded jeans and a red flannel shirt open and knotted over a black midriff exposing halter.

"Maybe later," said Brooke, "But let's go to Bleachers first."

"A sports bar?" asked Lauryn. "Why there?"

"It's close," Brooke reasoned, hoping that Lauryn wouldn't clue in that Tommy would be there. Not that she cared that she knew, she just didn't want any judgments nor lectures. How many times had Lauryn told her to just get over that jerk? She didn't know Tommy. Lauryn eyed her suspiciously but said nothing.

The two of them finished off their ciders and stood to leave. The autumn air was chilly. Lauryn put on her coal grey quilted parka and Brooke buttoned up her long navy blue double breasted overcoat. They grabbed their purses, took a cider each for the road and headed out.

Four blocks later they arrived at [i[Bleachers[/i]. Whatever was left of their beverages was quickly downed before entering. They walked in, Brooke much taller and curvier than her friend. She had put on ten pounds since Tommy had dumped her. Sure enough the hockey game was on all the big screens. Before she would remove her coat to unveil herself, Brooke looked around the room for him, trying not to make her eyes too obvious.

The sparks were flying, the metal melting and reforming as he worked it with the electrode. Tommy’s face was shielded by his welding hood, his hands protected by thick gloves. Sweat rolled down his cheeks from the intensity of the heat before him. He did his best to forget that he was seventy feet up in the air on a scaffold, and to ignore the sounds of the powerhouse around him, his focus purely on the puddle of molten steel.

It was a funny thing how, in spite of the intensity of his focus on his work, the act of welding allowed the mind to wander. It was almost a state of zen. The rhythmic motion of his arm guiding the weld puddle back and forth between the beveled edges of the pipe was smooth and sure as he came over the top. Finished with the rod, he pulled the stinger away and the electrical connection was cut, sparks ceased to fly, the blinding bright light extinguished, and he flipped his hood back and up with a quick snap of his head.

“Canucks play tonight?” asked his partner, Steve, a grizzled thirty year journeyman. Tommy nodded as he looked over that part of the weld, and Steve started running a steel file over it, scraping off the slag to reveal the fine weave of metal below it. “Nice,” Steve said, as Tommy moved himself around to the other side of the pipes to weld that part together, and as Steve stepped back and shielded his eyes, Tommy brought his hood down and struck up an arc.

His thoughts wandered, as they often did, back to his ex-girlfriend, Brooke. He was still conflicted over whether breaking it off with her, after ten months, had been the right thing to do. They were young, sure, and he knew that at some point he had truly loved her...

He shook it away. They really weren’t right for each other, he convinced himself for the umpteenth time. They wanted different things out of their relationship, things that they weren’t quite able to give each other.

Later that evening, after he had scrubbed the dirt and grime of his day away, he got ready to head to Bleachers to watch the Canucks play against the Blues. That was always a heated rivalry, and it promised to be a good game. He pulled on his favorite old blue jeans and a Canucks jersey, his leather jacket over that. He checked his shaggy brown hair in the mirror and opted to throw on a Canucks ball cap, and then stepped out the door, walking the three blocks from his small house to the bar, having a smoke on the way, and soon found his usual seat, towards the end of the bar with a good view of one of the big screens, and ordered a pint of beer and a cheeseburger.

Once the game started, the bar began to get more and more people packed in, and as usual, they were a fairly lively crowd, a good mix of young and old fans, guys and girls. Tommy paid little attention to the door, as he watched the game go back and forth.

Not only was Brooke nervous about being seen dressed this way, she was even more on edge about Lauryn catching her looking for Tommy. She didn't like Tommy, didn't like how he had broken Brooke's heart and was quite frankly getting sick of her friend's pining. Brooke had dragged Lauryn along even though she would have rather done this alone, but there was something pathetic about going out all by herself just to get laid. Lauryn was her cassus belli. They were just going for some drinks and a night out.

Just as Brooke had spotted Tommy in his usual spot Lauryn found a table on the other side of the room. Removing her overcoat, she hung it on the back of her chair. Some guy with a neck beard and skinny inked arms at the pool table glanced over her way. She could feel his eyes on her tits. It gave her a self conscious pang but at the same time it told her that her look was working. He returned his focus to his shot as the two girls took their seats. Brooke couldn't wait to get another drink in her. Lauryn was beginning to sense it too.

"What's with you tonight?" she asked as the server came by.

"What do you mean?" said Brooke, trying to play dumb.

"Two long islands?" Lauryn supposed as the server interrupted them.

"Sure," Brooke agreed.

There he was. She could see his profile as he leaned an arm on the bar. The stripes of his blue hockey jersey hung below the hem of his leather jacket and his dark tufts of hair stuck out from his blue matching blue Canucks hat. The tingles began to run through her. She still loved Tommy, more than ever. Part of her had gone missing since he had left her and that part was just a few yards across the room. The emptiness ached in Brooke's chest. She had to stay calm and not give herself away to Lauryn.

"Who's winning?" she asked as she looked up at the closest big screen.

"Oh, I dunno," Lauryn shrugged. The blue players and the white players chased each other back and forth across the ice. Lauryn knew a bit more about the game than Brooke did (her brothers had all played) but she was disinterested nonetheless. She took out her phone and began to text as the drinks arrived.

As Brooke took the first sip of her long island, a thick round fellow in a white jersey and cap slowed as he passed the table. He didn't wear the gear nearly so well as Tommy did. The guy stared down into her cleavage before lifting his eyes to grin at her and moved on. If the new bra was working this well for all the guys that she didn't care about, she hoped that it would work at least half as well for Tommy. She took a bigger sip. It went down easy.

"Oh my God," said Lauryn looking up and twisting herself to look across the room. "Ruth is here." Her neck strained another moment. "Right over there, with Dave. Let's go." Brooke wasn't interested in Ruth and Dave, at least not tonight. She had a mission to carry out and she had come this far.

"Just a minute," she stalled. "Let me finish my drink."

"Take it with you," Lauryn said with annoyance. She was bored and wanted to move somewhere more fun. Then she turned to look back at Ruth's table and she saw what was up. "Oh, I get it," she sighed admonishingly. "Forget him. He's a prick," she said.

"Don't say that," Brooke almost whined.

"All right. Do what you want," Lauryn threw her hands up. "I'm gonna hang with Ruth." She picked up her purse and bag. "You go fuck Tommy. See where it gets you. Just don't come crying to me later."

The scathing words hurt as Lauryn walked away but at least the air was cleared. There was only one thing left to do and the only remaining obstacle was her own fledgling confidence. Brooke still needed a moment or two to settle so she continued to drink until her long island was close enough to the bottom to premeditate the next round. Then she stood up, took her coat and purse on one arm and the rest of her drink in the other and walked towards the end of the bar. As she approached him from his left, Tommy's eyes were intent on the screen. Gulping down the rest of her alcohol she placed the empty on the bar and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She could smell the warmth of the leather.

"Hi," she said with wet eyes and a warm yet shy smile and she reached to put her coat on the stool catty-corner to his, nervously trying to give him a view.

Tommy’s mind drifted as he watched the game, like it usually did. Some people might have called it attention-deficit-disorder, but he knew it was better understood as an “overactive imagination.” His brain was always working on something that interested him.

The Canucks were moving the puck well, and fairly dominated the game thus far, but had yet to score a goal, and in fact were losing 1-0 after the Blue scored on a power-play. That’s okay. We always play a little harder when we’re fighting from behind, Tommy mused.

His eyes occasionally travelled over to the bartender, a young woman just a few years older than him. Amber. She always wore tight pants and tops, and she certainly had the curvy body to do it right. Tommy smirked when she caught his eye and gave him a wink. He would never bring it up, of course, but he remembered well the drunken night she’d let him take her home after closing and they’d smoked pot and screwed til the sun came up. It was, of course, an unspoken agreement of a one-night-stand, of which they had never spoken of again.

Some things were just better left unsaid, silently acknowledged. To be fair, he always tipped her well, and she usually gave him a free beer or two over the course of a game. He ate his burger and munched on his fries, smoked a cigarette, and Amber refilled his beer a couple times, and that’s when he felt the soft hand on his shoulder.

He turned his head at her greeting, but she was already slipping around behind him to the other side. He turned and saw her slide towards the nearby barstool. “Brooke?” he said, shaking his head a bit, doing his best to try to keep his eyes focused on her pretty face, instead of the impressive swell of her breasts.

“Sit down,” he said, eyeing her near-empty drink. They hadn’t seen each other since the break-up, despite living just a handful of blocks from each other. “Uh, how’ve you been? What brings you here?”

Emotions welled up inside her bosom from the proximity of his form. Apart from a handful of tearful texts they had not spoken since the breakup. Oh, she had seen him from afar a couple of times. Once she spotted him stopped at a light in his car. Another time in the supermarket, she had to make a hasty exit to have a cry before he noticed her, but this was their first face to face. As his eyes flitted up from her chest she felt a pang of excitement. He had noticed. It was working.

"Uh, how’ve you been? What brings you here?"

"Oh, just out with Lauryn," she answered with moistening eyes. Resisting the urge to throw her arms around him, instead she gently stroked a lock of his hair with her fingertips.

"Hey hon. Another beer?" the bartender asked Tommy with a smile just a bit too friendly for Brooke's liking - and where did she get off calling him 'hon'? Quickly she buried her feelings of jealousy, unsure if her attempts to hide them were working. "And for you?" the bartender asked her.

"Long island please."

As the bartender turned away to her taps Brooke inhaled deeply and subtly adjusted her bra through her sweater. The hockey game was one thing but she needed to keep his attention away from that trashy bartender.

"It's nice to see you, Tommy" she smiled.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at Brooke’s order of a Long Island; she hadn’t been much of a drinker when they were together, so for her to be out on the town ordering something known to be quite strong seemed a bit out of character for her.

His eyes followed Amber as she fixed their drinks, but his attention reverted to Brooke when she spoke to him again.

“It’s good to see you, too,” he replied. In the hockey game on the TV, the horn sounded, signaling the end of the period. There would be a twenty minute break before action resumed as the zambonis resurfaced the ice.

Tommy took a moment to lean back and get a good look at Brooke, letting his eyes graze over her curvy form. The short skirt and fishnet stockings were definitely a new look for her, not to mention the low cut of her top that placed her ample cleavage on display.

“You look good,” he said to her, just as Amber returned with their drinks.

“One long island,” Amber said, sliding the tall glass in front of Brooke, “and one Pabst Blue Ribbon,” she said, leaning forward just enough to afford Tommy a glimpse down her own low cut top for a moment before bouncing back with a playful wink and moving on to the next customer.

Tommy smirked, returning his focus to Brooke. “Careful. She usually makes those pretty fucking strong,” he warned her with a smile. They had only really gotten drunk together a couple of times when they were together, and those nights had invariably led to some rather wild sex. Which was when it occurred to him that those were the only times the sex had been what he really desired, her inhibitions lowered enough to let her lose control... or, more accurately, relinquish control to him.

“So what are you and, uh, Lauryn up to tonight?” Tommy asked her.

"You look good."

"Thank you," she said. His words filled her with warmth. It was a good sign. "You do too."

Then that ho bartender delivered their drinks and. When she gave Tommy a view down her chest it did not go unnoticed. The bitch even winked playfully as she left them. Brooke didn't need her around but she wasn't about to let on at all. It wasn't the time nor the place.

"So what are you and, uh, Lauryn up to tonight?"

"Just a girls' night out," she said casually. "You know, nothing special." It was such a lie. Brooke was intending for the evening to be thoroughly special. "Might go to Shakes later, but nothing's in stone." She couldn't just go straight for him like this. She needed to create some space in order to mute her desperation. Besides, she didn't want to disrupt his hockey as it had been an issue of contention between them before. The game would probably be going for another couple of hours. There might even be overtime. "Ruth and Dave are here too though, so we were going to hang with them for a bit," she added. "See you 'round?" She clinked her glass to his and walked off, leaving him with a subtle swank in her step.

At the table with Ruth and Dave, she took a seat next to Lauryn. Her friend gave her a wary look without speaking. The conversation was boring, something about some bullshit at Dave's work. The intermission was over and the game started up again. Brooke sat there pretending to be half-interested (in the talk, not the game) as she drank down her cocktail, forcing herself not to look Tommy's way, although she did take the occasional very quick glance, usually timing it with some excitement from the audience watching the game. More often she kept her eye on the slut bartender, quelling her contempt in the process. She couldn't stand her and her flirty eyes and narrow waist. Lauryn ordered another round and as it arrived and Brooke took the first sip she felt the need to pace herself. Her state had become obviously numb and woozy.

"You girls wanna shoot some stick?" It was Mike Towns asking Lauryn. Next to him was some guy that they didn't know. "This is my cousin Owen," Mike introduced the stranger. "He's in from Prince George." Owen wasn't bad looking at all. Then with a baby face and a mop of messy blonde hair. He wore a black t-shirt and red plaid cowboy shirt. Mike was thicker and much more husky in his short cropped hair and grey Canucks hoodie.

"All right, sure," Lauryn shrugged, looking for Brooke's approval. Brooke figured that she might as well. It would kill time while the game was on.

"Okay," Brooke agreed and the two of them stood to follow the guys to a table in the back corner of the room.

"So me and Lauryn against you two," Mike announced. Owen racked up and Mike lined up the first shot, scattering the triangle of balls but sinking none.

"Brooke, you go," said Owen. When Brooke eyed the table in confusion he offered his expertise. "Put the three ball in the corner," he pointed. Brooke wasn't much of a pool player at the best of times but she wavered a bit as she spread her feet and bent herself at the waist to take aim. Her shot missed and the balls rebounded about a little more. Then it was Lauryn's turn.

The game continued and apart from one very easy shot Brooke couldn't sink anything. On the other hand Owen was pretty good and nearly managed to beat Mike and Lauryn by himself. Certain shots would have her facing the bar and during these moments Brooke would use some of her aiming time to covertly keep tabs on Tommy. He was still seated at the end of the bar, his eyes usually pointed up at the big screen. A second game of pool started. About halfway through Brooke missed yet again and the white cue ball bounced around and dropped into the far corner pocket. She stood and pouted as the rest of the foursome chuckled.

"Bathroom break," announced Lauryn and she ushered Brooke off to the ladies' room.

They clinked their glasses together and away she went, leaving Tommy to his beer and his hockey game. He lit a cigarette as he sat there, trying to distract himself. There was no denying the attraction he had to Brooke. That was what had brought them together in the first place.

He found that he kept glancing in her direction. He didn’t mean to. It was almost natural. Keeping tabs on her. It was something he couldn’t help but do. Everyone kept an eye on the hottest girl in the bar, right?

He discovered a well of jealousy as he saw her and Lauryn go to the corner to shoot pool with Mike Towns and some other dude. No, he thought. I left for a reason...

He tried to watch the game. It was a rough back and forth affair, neither team gaing much superiority at any point. The goaltenders were playing well. He liked that. He had been a goalie, when he had played, in his youth.

He was watching her again, bent over, taking a shot. She was clueless at pool, he knew that well enough. Tommy knew his way around a pool table fairly well. But he wasn’t about to interject himself in his ex’s game.

She scratched, and stood there pouting a bit, the others laughing at her. As she turned on her heel, he caught her eye.

Their eyes locked.

The little smirk that curled his lip was one she would know well. It had typically crossed his face when he was having (what she referred to as) his naughty thoughts.

Just then, Lauryn was grabbing her and pulling her away towards the restroom. Tommy ordered another beer.

"You know that they're just looking down your top every time that you shoot," said Lauryn as the two of them leaned against the sink counter. Brooke knew that they were but had been too preoccupied to realize how obvious that the guys had been. She could only blush. "Do you like him? He likes you."

"Owen?" Brooke asked. If she were truthful, she did find him quite attractive and on any other night she probably would, but on this night she only had eyes for Tommy. "He's all right, I suppose," she downplayed.

"You should fuck him," said Lauryn. "You need a good lay."

"Oh, Lauryn," Brooke rolled her eyes.

"All right, well at least get cozy with him here," Lauryn reasoned. "Neck a little right in front of Tommy and then walk out the door with him. Show that tool that you're through with him." Brooke made a face as she wasn't all that comfortable with how her friend was speaking about Tommy. "Aw, hon. I just don't want to see you so depressed anymore," Lauryn continued and pulled her close for a hug.

"Thanks," Brooke sniffed. It was nice to know that Lauryn cared about her rather than just hating her ex. Then as they let go, Lauryn pulled two condoms out of her purse and tucked them into Brooke's bra.

"Have fun tonight," Lauryn smiled and kissed her cheek.

Back at the billiards table Mike sank the eight ball to beat them again and they started a third round. Tommy was still in his spot. The bartender was busy filling orders at the other end. Just before the trip to the ladies' room their eyes had met. The look had made her tingle all over. She wanted him so bad. As he sat there his focus was still on the screen and she worried that perhaps she had mistaken the connection.

Brooke still couldn't make a shot, although she was acutely aware now where either Mike, Owen, the both of them or even other patrons would strategically place themselves to peer down the neck of her sweater each time that it was her turn. Then suddenly the entire joint jumped up and cheered raucously with patrons high fiving each other all around. Vancouver must have had scored. With the distraction, Brooke seized the opportunity to slip back to the table and transfer the condoms from her brassiere into her purse hanging on the back of her chair.

Tommy had been lost in thought for most of the game as he sat there watching, but not really paying attention. His eye kept wandering over towards Brooke. She looked good.

“Stop eye-fucking her and go fuck her,” Amber teased him as she walked by with a tray of shot glasses for Table 6. And just like that, she was off with a giggle before he could even respond. Tommy just chuckled and shook his head, lighting up a fresh cigarette before turning his attention back to the game.

Another hand on his shoulder, suddenly. He half expected it to be Brooke again, except she was over by the pool table. He looked over his shoulder.

“Hey stranger, fancy meeting you here.” The strawberry-blonde woman was probably about five years older than Tommy. She was definitely quite attractive, wearing tight jeans and a tight little Canucks tee shirt with a lovely plunging neckline.

“Michelle? Is that you?” Tommy said, blinking.

“Hey, I clean up pretty fucking good, you filthy welder,” she spat back at him with a laugh before sliding into the open seat that Brooke had sat in earlier.

“You mean you don’t wear a hard hat and overalls all the time when you’re not working?” he said.

They knew each other well, as they had been on the job together for some six weeks at this point. They always arrived in the parking lot a half hour early to drink their coffee in peace and quiet before the work got started. She was an electrician by trade, so they didn’t see each other much while working, but they always had a good rapport on the way in and out of the job.

Just then, the Canucks scored, and the bar erupted in cheers, including Tommy and Michelle.

Amber came rushing back past him to start pouring Canuck shots; they were a dollar a pop whenever the Canucks scored, and they were some sweet syrupy blue awfulness but almost everyone did one anyway and the bar made a killing.

“Wait, what?” Amber stopped, looking at Michelle, and then back over at Brooke. “No, fuck her instead,” she said, before rushing off again to start mixing the shots up.

Michelle lost it, and started laughing before taking a drink from her near empty beer. “What was that about?” she asked him.

“Oh, my ex is over there,” he said, nodding towards the pool table. “She never comes here, she doesn’t like hockey, and we broke up like three months ago and now she shows up, looking hot as fuck, and being all nice so... yeah, Amber told me right before you showed up that I should go fuck her already,” he explained.

“Ahh, one of those nights,” Michelle responded. “Totally been there before. Fuck, like, a week ago.” She smirked. “Ex-sex is fun. How can I help?”

"What's this?" asked Brooke as Mike handed out a round of blue colored shots that he had just bought from a tray carried by some server. As she looked around her these little blue things seemed to be everywhere.

"Home team scored!" Lauryn explained over the noise. "They always do these blue shots here when they score!" Mike and Owen held up the shots with wide grins and the four of them raised an impromptu toast. Brooke was drunk enough already but she was committed to going full speed that evening and so quickly tossed it back with everyone else, grimacing, then quickly swallowing to avoid the poisonous taste. It was her turn to play. As she leaned into it, Owen deliberately walked around to the other side of the table to peer down her top with a terribly sly grin. by this time even when she looked up from the table to make eye contact with him he didn't seem to care at all that he'd been caught.

Brooke totally muffed the shot, the tip of her cue glancing off the side of the white ball sending it spinning off at an embarrassing angle and hitting nothing. The booze was definitely affecting her coordination, and that blue stuff - whatever it was - hit her as she straightened herself up, her head feeling quite light upon her shoulders.

Over at the bar, there was another tramp flirting with Tommy. This time it was some skinny redhead. Brooke despised her instantly. She didn't even use any imagination, just t-shirt and jeans. It must have been nice to not have to work at it. The bitch tossed her hair about every few moments as she chatted playfully with him. At one point she caught a glimpse of her profile and although inebriation and distance were factors, Brooke was sure that the woman was a little older. The redhead needed to stay in her own league. She needed to fuck off.

Meanwhile Owen had upped his game and went on a run, sinking five or six in a row before running out of luck, leaving the others quite impressed and otherwise distracted. Soon afterwards, Brooke's turn came up again. There wasn't much left to shoot at as Owen had previously cleared so many of the targets. As she leaned down to line up her shot, he shared a wink with his cousin and approached.

"Let me help," he said and leaned in next to her. "Get your chin down lower so you can see," he instructed as he put one hand on her arm and the other on her lower back. She bent down further. "Widen your stance," he said. Owen was very close. She could feel the warmth of his body next to her and as she spread her feet apart their legs brushed together. "Now, look straight down the cue, straight through the middle of the white ball. Then continue that imaginary line straight through the fourteen."

"What about that orange ball in the way?" she asked. Although his tutelage seemed to be making some sense of things for her, his carnal motives were obvious. For the moment at least her mind was off of Tommy and that older skank flirting with him.

"It's not in the way, look down your straight line. There is room," he said. "Now if you hit everything straight, the fourteen will go straight, but we need it to angle away a little bit," he continued to instruct. "So aim a little off center," he said and his arm slid off of her back and to her far elbow to adjust the cue stick, causing their hips to press together. "Nice and easy," he urged.

Brooke struck the white ball and away it went across the table just past the orange ball to glance off of the fourteen. The number fourteen then rolled towards the corner, bounced off of both banks very near the pocket and stopped. When she stood up Owen's arm had found its way around her waist.

"Almost!" Lauryn cheered. "You're getting better!" Finished concentrating, Brooke's focus returned to Tommy but she dared not look his way again until Lauryn's attention turned elsewhere.

Then the bar got into an uproar. All the necks craned to watch the screens, including Brooke's. A white player and a blue player were grappling. There was a fight. Everyone started cheering and jeering. During the commotion, she took Owen's hand in her own and removed it from her hip to step away.

“So you gonna go get her or what, stud?” Michelle asked him as Amber delivered another round to them. Tommy had a good buzz going now. He shook his head.

“I just came here to watch the game,” he said.

“Which one is she?”

Tommy nodded towards the pool table. “She’s shooting now. Fishnets.”

Michelle smirked. “Ah. Nice. How long were you guys together?”

“Ten months,” he replied, taking a long drink.

“And how long since the break-up?”

“Uhh, like, three months or so, I guess.”

Michelle nodded. “Sounds about right. Just when you think you’re over them and you’ve moved on, they show back up to wreak havoc.”

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head again and shrugging. “Something like that.”

“Who broke up with who?” she asked.

Tommy looked over at her. “You sure ask a lot of questions. I broke up with her. She was too needy and suspicious and self-conscious. I caught her snooping through my phone one night and had just had enough.”

“Hmm,” Michelle said. “Well, I guess you gotta figure out if you want that kind of shit back in your life or not. Just remember, though: we’re all crazy in our own special way.”

Tommy laughed. “I know that’s right!” he said.

“That guy she’s shooting pool with is getting pretty handsy,” Michelle noted.

“I don’t care,” Tommy lied.

Just then a fight broke out in the hockey game. The Blues were trying to put the brakes on the Canucks’ momentum in the game, and a fight was often a good way to do it. The whole bar erupted in cheers though as the Canucks’ tough guy pounded down the Blues’ fighter and both players were escorted to their respective penalty boxes. Tommy lit up a cigarette as the commotion died down, and took another long drink.

“So you gonna screw her or not?” Michelle asked.

Tommy just chuckled. “I don’t even know if that’s what she’s here for,” he replied.

“Only one way to find out.”

Tommy took another long drink, and followed it with a deep drag. He shrugged again. “I mean, she looks pretty jealous just with me sitting here talking to you,” Michelle noted. “I’ve definitely seen that look before!” She smirked, scooting her barstool closer to Tommy’s. “I mean, should we try to make her more jealous? Will that work?”

Tommy raised an eyebrow and looked at her, wondering what she had in mind...

The Canucks fans all seemed pleased with the outcome of the fight, especially Mike and Owen as they shared a high five. Tommy on the other hand, surprisingly didn't appear too terribly moved. Apparently he had more to concentrate on, namely that trash can ho redhead. She had his attention diverted from hockey. Brooke had never been able to manage that. Jealousy raged.

It was her turn to shoot again and Owen resumed his coaching stance, in close with his hand on her hip. Despite his tutelage, her concentration was just not there and she missed badly.

They were even closer together now, Tommy and that bitch. Something was brewing over there and it wasn't in the bar taps. Brooke needed more information. She had to get over there but didn't want to cause a scene, neither to anger Tommy nor to piss off Lauryn. Her friend pulled her aside for a moment after finishing her turn.

"I think I'm gonna go to Shakes with Ruth and Dave." she confided. "When we leave why don't you and Owen head back to your place?"

"Hanna will be home," mentioned her roommate. Not that that would have stopped her anyway. It was merely a stall technique. Lauryn seemed determined to sabotage Brooke's plans, no matter how much of the details that she wasn't aware of, and if she would have known she would have been even more dead set against them.

"Want the key to my place?" Lauryn offered. "He totally wants you. You deserve a good shag." Brooke's expression pleaded her to stop. "All right, if you don't want him then come to Shakes with us," she coerced, but there was no way that Brooke was going for that. She was not leaving without Tommy while he was still in the building, but she had to keep that all to herself. Desperately she wanted to check out Tommy and that ho bag at the bar but couldn't dare look while under Lauryn's watch. It was so hard to resist just turning her head for a moment. If Tommy walked out the door with her, the whole night would be a disaster. the only thing really in her favor was that the game was still on. That would keep him in his seat - probably.

"I dunno, maybe I'll go with you. I'm not sure yet," she sat on the fence. Really she had no intention of leaving. "Need another drink?" she asked. "I'll go to the bar."

"Server will be around," Lauryn noted.

"I'll just go."

With that Brooke walked up to the bar feeling Lauryn's scorn on her back as she went. She knew. Lauryn knew all along that Brooke was only there for Tommy.

"Two long islands, please," she half-slurred. It was way too soon for another drink. She'd just have to nurse it. Out of the corner of her eye she peered down to Tommy's end of the bar to keep tabs on the action.

Tommy raised an eyebrow as he listened to Michelle’s crazy suggestions, before laughing and just shaking his head. He took a long drink off his beer and snuffed out his cigarette in the glass ashtray.

“Listen, I really don’t even know if that’s why she’s here,” he explained again. “I mean, she’s obviously out with her friends, and with a body like that, I’m sure she can get any guy she wants tonight, if that’s even what she’s after.” He shrugged and took another drink.

“Yeah but I think you need to get some pussy,” Michelle laughed.

“You offering?” he asked.

“Maybe some other time, big guy,” Michelle said with a playful wink as she finished her beer. “See ya Monday.” She dropped some cash on the bar to cover her beers and left him alone there at the bar.

“Amber!” he called out, before emptying his beer down his throat. “One more!” he said, before realizing that Amber was taking an order from Brooke. He caught Brooke’s eye and smirked a little bit. He glanced over at the open barstool next to him and then back at her, a silent invitation.

Amber giggled, seeing the interaction as she mixed up the long islands and poured the potent beverage into two tall glasses. “I think he likes you,” she said to Brooke with a playful smirk.

Looking around the bar again, he noticed that the billiards game she was part of had ended, and that her friend, Lauryn, was back at their table. She and her other friends were putting their coats on, as if to leave. When Tommy looked back over at Brooke, he saw the guy she had been playing pool with standing next to her. He couldn’t hear what the guy was saying to her.

“Hey,” Owen said. “It looks like we’re all going over to Shakes, are you coming with us?” he was asking her, just as the two long islands were placed before her.

"Amber!"

The girl behind the bar turned her attention to Tommy as he called her. So he even knew her name. Brooke's eyes narrowed in contempt.

"I think he likes you," Amber told her as she served her. What the fuck did she know? Brooke held her spitefulness within without a flinch. Just then Owen startled her with his hand on her shoulder.

"It looks like we're all going over to Shakes."

"What about the game?" she turned to him and asked.

"We won," he smiled and held up his palm for a high five. When Brooke half heartedly obliged he leaned in to steal a congratulatory kiss. He was rather inebriated himself.

"I meant the hockey game."

"Oh," he shrugged. "We can watch in on PVR."

"We're going," said Lauryn as the rest of the gang strolled past. Brooke could only stand there looking indecisive with a cocktail in each hand.

"What about the drinks?" she asked blankly.

"I told you we were going but you weren't listening," Lauryn said in a bit of a huff. Then she glared over at Tommy and then back at her friend. Her expression was scolding. "Fine then. Stay. I don't care." The group walked on leaving Owen lingering for his own answer.

"I'm not going," she told him.

"Why not?" asked Owen.

"Dunno. Maybe I'll catch up later," she said. "You go ahead."

"Sure?" he said. "All right." Then somewhat stunned he backed away and rejoined the rest at the door. Brooke turned back to the bar and sipped from one of the long islands to kill a couple of awkward minutes while they chatted and texted. Finally they made their exit and after another moment to ensure that the group were truly good and gone, she eyed the empty seat next to Tommy. Reaching up with her hand she checked her hair but was too drunk to discern whether or not it was all still in place. Then wrapping her deliberate fingers carefully around both drinks, she slid them along the bar with her as she ventured on wobbly legs to settle on the empty stool.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked him meekly, trying to subdue the lust in her veins. She looked him over, her emotions twisting in tumult.

When the guy came over to talk to Brooke, Tommy returned his attention to the game. Tensions were running high, as both teams were fighting for a playoff spot with only a few games left in the season. Amber dropped off his beer and he took a drink, just as a Canuck defenseman got his stick up in a Blues forward’s belly and yanked back, dropping the Blue to the ice and eliciting a minor penalty call from the referee for hooking. There was only a couple minutes left in the game, and the Canucks were only winning by a single goal; it was a terrible time to go short-handed.

Tommy groaned, shaking his head before lighting up another cigarette. The game was coming down to the waning seconds, with the Blues pressing their man advantage. They had pulled their goalie to the bench to get another forward on the ice as well, and had the Canucks pinned in their own zone. They were moving the puck well and had gotten a few good shots on the goalie.

Tommy glanced over and smirked a bit as Brooke wobbled onto the chair beside him. A collective groan filled the air as he let his eyes wander over her body once again. He looked back up at the TV, and saw the Blues were celebrating, and there was only twelve seconds left in regulation.

“By all means,” he replied to her. “Things just got interesting. Looks like we’re going to overtime.”

Brooke was about to ask who was winning when she remembered that overtime was always invoked to prolong a tied game, so she saved herself some embarrassment by holding her tongue for the next thought to come, but as Tommy sat there crushing his smoke into his ashtray, his loose tufts of hair hanging from the edges of his hat like the coarse brush strokes of a classic painting that from a distance look like a photograph yet up close are a myriad of delightfully chaotic detail, beckoned her fingers to run through them, and the only other thought in the forefront of her mind was to pull him down under the bar and force him to accept all of her tenderest love making. To push all that aside and to keep her hands to herself, she took another unneeded sip from the drink in her right hand. She had started with that one after deciding that the one in her left was still Lauryn's if she would return to claim it.

"You look nice," she told him with warmth in her smile and forlorn in her eyes, subtly leaning forward, her bust hovering at the edge of the bar.

Tommy chuckled a bit at her words, and took another long drink off his beer. He had a damn good buzz going now. He looked over at Brooke as he set his beer down on the bar. His eyes lingered in her proffered, deep cleavage, of course. He found a desire creeping up in him, a need to sink his face between those tits and just savor the feel of her curvy body against him.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” he said with a smirk, his eyes locking with hers. There was something in that look he couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was just the intoxication. He leaned in closer to her. “In fact, you look good enough to eat,” he said quietly, near her ear, before pulling back.

He took another drink. “Why didn’t you leave with your friends?” he asked her next.

The desire in Tommy's eyes falling upon her chest made her damp with hopeful anticipation. She wanted him desperately and she wanted to be wanted by him.

"In fact, you look good enough to eat."

Even though there were a couple of feet between them, his remark brought them terribly close. Before she could formulate her next words he spoke again.

"Why didn't you leave with your friends?" he asked.

She breathed in and her head lolled about slowly as she shrugged to buy time for her response. Brooke slipped from her seat to step towards him.

"I've missed you," she sniffed. She was genuinely emotional. Her lips were twinged with drunken slurring. "Please don't take this the wrong way. I know you need your space," she said, pausing as she constructed her sentences, "but we didn't say goodbye the right way." Gently Brooke stroked his hair over his ear, the tips of her fingers tracing the lobe and the back of his jaw. "Please let me, just once more," she suggested. Now was the moment of truth, the point of no return. She was taking her shot. Brooke reached her left arm across him and around his head and drew him close, pressing her tits up against his elbow. She leaned in slowly and kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth.

Her touch was electric on his skin, a hundred memories surging into his mind at once. He realized how much he had been wanting her, longing for that touch. He had forgotten how badly he had craved that touch when they were together.

When her breasts pushed against him, and he felt her hot breath on his cheek, there was an immediate response between his legs. He was beginning to turn towards her as she kissed him, his arm dragging across her full breasts and his hand falling to touch her fishnet-clad leg.

His lips slid across hers and he answered her plea in the simplest way possible, by pulling her into him for that kiss. He slipped off the barstool to his feet, leaning down to kiss her deeply, his tongue sliding over her lips. Their bodies were pressed together, and Tommy knew his arousal and desire for her were quite obvious.

“Let’s go,” Tommy said, his hands squeezing hungrily ar her curvy form. He quickly reached into a pocket and pulled out some cash, dropped it on the bar, and then took Brooke’s hand in his.

“Have a good night, you two,” came Amber’s playful voice as she scooped up the money.

Not only did Tommy kiss back, he did so ravenously and without apology. When his arm brushed across her breasts she murmured a tiny sigh into his mouth. The firmness in his touch of her thigh, his embrace of her waist finally confirmed her desirability. At long last she was wantable, and badly so. Physical waves of thrill rippled up from her uterus and through her body cavity at his public claiming of her as if she were a valuable treasure. The other looks that she had received throughout the evening further supported the notion, but the one that she desperately needed to claim her was staking her out loud and clear. Everything was going so well.

"Let's go."

Brooke knew that she and Tommy were about to have hot savage and reckless sex and the thought produced a fresh sheen of wet between her lips. As they began to step away from the bar she remembered her coat and purse back at the table. For a second Brooke even thought about just leaving them there - the moment was that urgent - but then thought better of it.

"Wait," she halted, then steadied Tommy with her hands to keep him in place while she briefly stepped away. "My purse," she explained. On wobbly legs she turned and picked her way between the tables and chairs to retrieve her belongings. Slipping quickly into the long coat and shouldering her bag, she made the return trip half staggering in her forlorn giddiness. Reunited, she slipped herself back into his grasp to head to the door. As their drunken bodies jostled, even through her coat the bulk of her breast rubbed against him. On the way out another couple sweetly hand-in-hand passed on their way in. The looks on their faces said it all as they contrived to hide their gawking. The newcomers could see the rich musky clouds of sex wafting from their bodies, as if they could ever fuck like Brooke and Tommy were about to. hell, they could even watch her moment of triumph and take notes. Brooke was that wasted to care. Her breath was heavy and hot and as they moved onto the sidewalk and into the night air she wondered how long she could hold out. She couldn't wait to feel his hands on her skin, his tongue in her mouth, his cock inside her pussy.

Tommy and Brooke made it all of about fifteen steps before stopping to kiss again. Tommy was full of desire for this woman, desire he had been trying to stuff away for months, and now it was all bubbling to the surface. Part of him knew this was a mistake, and they would both regret it in the morning, but right now their hormones were obviously in charge.

His tongue claimed her mouth, and he pulled her bodily into his embrace, eager to feel her full breasts smashed against his body. He only stopped kissing her to resume their hasty walk, both of them eager to get out of the cold and out of their clothes.

Still, they couldn’t help but stop and make out a couple more times along the way, Tommy even being brazen enough to reach inside her jacket and cop a feel, a promise of plenty more to come.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he said hungrily in her ear as he fumbled with his keys at the front door. He opened the door and into the darkened house they practically stumbled, and he quickly shut the door behind them with a bang.

Their pace was eager, their steps impatient. More than once they stopped to make out. His kisses were sloppy and she returned them in full lust as she nipped at his lips and lashed her tongue at his gums. At one point she felt the rush of cold on her body as Tommy parted the front of her coat to grope her heavily. Her knees nearly buckled as she thought that he was going to shove her into the closed shop doorway behind her and take her right there, but his place wasn't far and he soon led on.

She hung on to him as he jingled his house keys and the two of them nearly fell inside as the door swung open. It slammed shut and they were alone in the dark. Brooke let her coat slip from her shoulders and slip to the floor. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her soft tits right up against him and whispered in his ear.

"Tommy I want you. I want you inside me."

Tommy pulled back a bit, raised his hand, and placed a finger on her lips. “Shhhh,” he replied, before kissing her deeply once more. He pushed her into the wall, and pressed his body against hers as his lips fell to her neck, suckling on her supple skin. “We’ll get there, I promise,” he whispered back to her. His hands trailed down her body, enjoying the feel of the fabric against her skin until he found those fishnets at the hem of her short skirt.

His hands roamed eagerly over her thick thighs, delighting in her body. His fingers quickly dug towards her core, finding her wet panties and pressing the spot where he knew quite well would excite her, his fingers rubbing over her clit with firm precision for a moment of bliss before traveling back upwards, and cupping her tits over her sweater and squeezing with delightful abandon.

“But,” he growled, “if you really need me inside you, right this instant, you are more than welcome to get down on your knees...”

Her heart fluttered in unison with a tingle in her ovaries when he shushed her and made his promise to fuck her. Backed against the wall, her flesh capitulated as Tommy's hands indulgently searched it, past her booty and down her hips. She parted her thighs for him to reach between, and a shaky whimper escaped her hot mouth as he fingered her, causing her hips to roll back and forth with the motion.

Next his palms came up to grab the front of her sweater, gruffly untucking it from her skirt as he gratuitously kneaded away at her tits. She wanted him so bad that her face darted forward to kiss him ravenously as her hands found his belt buckle and began to frantically work it loose.

"But, if you really need me inside you, right this instant, you are more than welcome to get down on your knees."

As if his incessant teasing wasn't enough, he wanted oral. Not that she had any problem giving him some, but her pussy was yearning so badly that she would be more than willing to do it as much as he wanted after her intense urges were satisfied. Nonetheless, he wanted it now. Brooke relaxed her body back against the wall, and gazing at him with dreamy eyes, bent her knees to slowly slide down until she was eye-level with his waist. His belt already open, she undid his fly and worked his jeans and boxers loose. Then with a delicate touch she hauled out his cock, took it in her fingers and aimed it at her lips. Parting them, she wrapped them tantalizingly around the end of his hot meat.