Drinkin' - Parker McCollum

1.9K 20 0
                                    

"Have a great night, boys." You say with a flirty smile as you lean forward against the bar top. The two blue collar boys send the same smile back as they leave their change for a tip.

Eighteen bucks for four three dollar drinks???

You grin to yourself as you tuck the cash into your back pocket then set their dirty glasses in the sink behind you.

The door jingles open and a pair of scuffed up boots thunk against the wood plank floor.

"Hi there, how are ya?" You say kindly, smiling warmly at a guy who looks slightly out of place- that is until he starts talking.

"How ya doin', miss?" He asks as he sits on the stool across from her.

You take his appearance in; tall with a dashing smile. He's got a flat-bill hat on his head and a gold chain around his neck but you noticed those worn boots peeking out from under ripped jeans. Your eyes cross over the tight, white t-shirt stretched across his obviously fit chest and biceps and you suppress biting your lip.

"What can I getcha?" You ask, leaning forward against the bar again, your arms crossed below your breasts to make them pop more.

His eyes trail down from your face to your chest.

"Coors Light please, draft."

You turn to the taps behind you and fill a glass for him. You feel his eyes on your ass and catch his gaze when you turn back around.

"What brings you here?" You ask, picking up a rag.

"Ah, I'm just visitin'." He says, setting his glass down after taking a drink. "What about you?"

"Long story." You chuckle back.

"I got all night." He says behind his glass.

You look up from the rag through your lashes and smiles slightly. "You got nothin' better to do? No girl back home?"

"Nah. I like girls with stories." He licks his lips.

"I moved here a couple years ago with my ex and we got a place and got engaged but we broke up after six months of bein' engaged and I haven't been able to move out since." You say, giving him the shortened version of your long story.

He nods. "You just bartendin'?"

"Nah, I got two other jobs." You say, drying off a glass. "I work 'em every other day then I'm here every night."

"Sounds like you's chocked full, huh?"

"Gotta pay off 'em student loans somehow." He laughs, totally understanding. "You look like you got a story too."

"Nah, not really. Just been on the road for the past two months and finally got time to come home."

"You a truck driver?"

"No. I'm a musician."

You give him a look. "What?"

"Yeah."

"Who are you?"

"Parker McCollum."

You pull a face. "Who?"

"Ouch." He laughs half heartedly. "You're from here and you don't know me?"

"Ouch." You respond. "That's extremely cocky, such a big head." You mutter, slightly irritated with how arrogant he seems to be. "Anything else for you?"

"Uh, no." He takes a five out of his wallet and tosses it on the counter then leaves without saying anything else.

You run a hand down your face and sigh heavily.

+++

It's been a couple months since that night but good news; you're moving back to your hometown next week.

The door jingles open and a pair of scuffed up boots thunk against the wood planks.

You look up and see a familiar looking guy approaching the bar. "Hey there, how are ya?" You ask.

"Real good." He responds, sitting on the bar stool across from you. "How're you?"

"Super good and gettin' better." You mumble back. "What can I getcha?"

"Coors-" You cut him off with a glass of Coors Light on tap. "You remembered?"

"Lucky guess." You say as you pick up the bus tray and head back to the kitchen.

Parker leans over the counter and finds the stack of napkins and a sharpie. He uses the marker to write down his name and number then tosses the marker back where it was.

"How's it goin? The movin' out thing?"

"Pretty good, actually." You respond. "Leavin next week."

"Wow." He says, the napkin in his hand as it rests in his lap. "Hey, if you're ever in Nashville, hit me up."

"You don't even know my name." You respond, chuckling at the blue ink on the napkin as it lays on the condensation ring covered bar top. "You gold chained cowboy."

He looks slightly offended at your comment but that just keeps him hooked to you. He's into girls with some attitude and you fit the bill.

"Well, what's your name?"

You chuckle again as you pick up another napkin with the marker in your hair. You scribble your name and number onto it then slide it to him.

"If you're ever in (your hometown), hit me up."

Yee Haw ImaginesWhere stories live. Discover now