The night had started out the same way so many nights started off, with Irene perched on a bar stool, sipping a chocolate martini, and waiting. She waited for a place to stay for the night. Eventually some man would hit on her. She would smile and bat her lashes at him and hope he would invite her back to his place.
Essentially that’s how she got to where she was now, sandwiched between two warm, sleeping men. They had been a lot of fun, and now they were both snoring. Her circumstances all started when Kyle, the younger of the two, walked into the bar first.
“Hey,” he said. He gave her a cocky smirk and a quick lift of his head.
He was cute. She looked him over, assessing if he still lived at home, or how many roommates he might have. With the crazy price of rent these days, most pro
