Flash Fiction for Romance Writers 8/22/16

“Ugh,” she groaned.


From an archway that divided the foyer and the barroom, Sharla’s nose flared taking in the mixture of cheap colognes, whiskey, and sex.  Classy place, she thought, as her eyes skimmed the crowded pub in search of her date.  


The music pounded in her ears, some kind of hard rock music she wasn’t fond of.  It was a far reach from Sharla’s typical scene.  She wondered why they couldn’t have met in a nice restaurant or a coffee shop like normal people on a blind date, but Rory and Jenn had somehow convinced her of something to the effect of nothing ever growing in a comfort zone.  Whatever that meant.


She didn’t see anyone fitting her date’s description, nor did she notice the tell-sign they had agreed on, a gray beanie, so she took a seat at the bar and ordered a cosmo.  She had her doubts when the bartender laughed at her, shaking his head.  She cringed when he strained the shaken ingredients into a chilled beer mug and slid the drink in front of her from across the bar.


Sharla grudgingly took her drink in hand and shifted in her seat to watch for her date to arrive, at this point late.  A woman brushed up beside her wearing what looked like a cheap knock-off version of a leather halter top.  The woman’s boobs were pushed up unusually high, and Sharla wondered if the woman had ever tried to bury her own face in them.   As she bent over the bar next to Sharla, the slits that were ripped in the woman’s faded, painted-on jeans showed her tight, round, butt cheeks, causing Sharla’s face to redden in shock.


If she hadn’t been trying to prove a point to her friends, she would have pulled her collar up to her chin and braved the walk back through the questionable neighborhood, back to the safety and comfort of her Lexus coupe she had to park three blocks away.  She wasn’t about to park it outside a place like this, not if she expected her windows to be intact when she came out.


At fifteen minutes past the hour, Sharla checked her watch for what may have been the hundredth time and decided to come to terms with being stood up.  She couldn’t believe it.  If anyone was going to stand anyone up, it should have been her by the looks of this place.  She couldn’t help but feel deflated as she decided to get the hell out of there.  It was disappointing, but the longer she sat there alone with no date, the more she felt completely pathetic, and the suggestive glares she kept getting from two guys at the nearby pool table, with scraggly beards and missing teeth, were not helping in the least.


“Ugh,” she groaned, as she stood and hurried toward the exit.


The cool night air caressed the skin of her face once she got outside and she took in a fresh lungful of it.  When the door closed behind her, it muffled the sounds of the screaming music, and she was thankful to be rid of it.


She had only taken about five steps in the direction of her car when she heard a thundering machine roaring up to park in front of her.  The man driving the bike put a foot out to balance as he cut the machine off, and Sharla couldn’t help but admire the man’s toned, masculine physique.  She would joke with her friends that she couldn’t date a man who was skinnier than her, but this man had her mouth watering with thick, sculpted muscles, from his arms, to his chest, all the way down to those delicious thighs.


Sharla’s eyes were still glued to the man as he pulled his helmet off, revealing his face that could only be described as ruggedly handsome.  A scar marked the dark stubble on his jawline, and she drew in a shallow breath as she noticed the line of his lips that curled up to one side as he stared back at her.  What stood out most were his eyes.  Even in the dim lighting of the full moon and the blinking lights of the bar, Sharla could tell his eyes were the lightest shade of piercing blue she had ever seen.  The color was striking against the backdrop of his tousled hair that he swept back before replacing the helmet with a gray beanie.


Realization struck her. She licked her lips as she pictured herself laid out beneath him as he straddled her like he did the monster bike he currently held between his powerful legs. The night held promise after all, and she found herself swearing off comfort zones from that point forward. 

Nicole R. Locker is a resident of Lubbock, Texas. She has a Master of Science in Psychology and a love for pit bulls, Pilates, and romance novels. Nicole dreamed of becoming a writer since grade school after writing her first poem in 4th grade at the age of nine. A Social Worker since 2008, she has published life-coaching books on self-esteem and personal relationships, and has now added Fiction Romance to her repertoire.

Posted in #flashfiction, contemporary romance, flash fiction, romance

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