The Big Guy Gets the Girl

Tuesday nights at Club Bongo during the summer were usually quite dull, until the owners had decided that for a $15 cover charge, customers could drink as much as they wanted. This brought in the college kids who stuck around between semesters. They clamored on the sidewalk outside the club, flashing their IDs and practically wetting themselves thinking about the alcohol just waiting for them inside. Tuesdays were worse than the weekends because of the sheer amount that the customers drank. He couldn’t believe no one was dying from alcohol poisoning.

It made Hurley hate working the Tuesday night shift, but the manager liked having someone his size on hand. He was in charge of the door, checking IDs and making sure no one underage got inside. He was also responsible for chucking out the people that got too rowdy. It didn’t happen very often, because usually people took one look at him and believed he’d kick their ass to the moon.

The truth was, Hurley was a lover, not a fighter, and he hated his job. He kept it because it paid the rent and got him through grad school.

Tonight was no exception. With classes starting the following Monday, this was the last All You Can Drink Tuesday until the next summer, and the line wound around the building.

Hurley pushed through the crowd to get to the door, and people moved aside for him. He took his place on the stool just inside the entrance, relieving Sylvie, the girl that worked until 10:30 when Hurley got there. She looked thrilled to see him and quickly took off. Hurley sighed and prepared himself for another long night.

While he worked, he threw occasional glances into the club, scanning the floor for problems. It was busier tonight, but so far, things looked normal.

Around 11:30, he noticed a scuffle down by the bar and stood up. A preppie looking blond guy was definitely invading the space of a blond girl, and she did not look pleased. When the guy grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, Hurley told the waiting people to just hang tight, closed the door and went to take care of the problem.

Two other club security guards were already there, pulling the guy away. The girl was clutching her purse and staring in fright at the guy. Her hands were shaking.

“He needs to go,” one of the guards said.

Hurley nodded and took the guy by the back of his neck.

“Yo, what’d I do?” he slurred, looking up drunkenly.

“Dude, you were being a bothersome twit,” Hurley said, half dragging, half walking the guy to the exit at the other end of the club.

They reached the door, and Hurley pushed it open, then dropped the guy on the sidewalk. His friends hurried after him, and Hurley moved to close the door.

“Don’t come back,” he said.

Then he went back to his post at the entrance, brushing his hands on his jeans. Crisis averted. Looking back to the bar, he saw the girl standing alone near the hallway to the restrooms. Probably waiting for some friends. He resumed letting people in.

A few minutes later, he searched for her again, wondering who she was with. He’d never seen her in here before, and he felt an unfamiliar urge to protect her. He spotted her and frowned as he realized she was moving towards him, inching her way off the crowded dance floor. He glanced around, but then settled his gaze on her again. She smiled, a small hesitant smile that made her nose bunch just a bit. Hurley wondered if he smelled bad, was that why she was moving? Casually, he stretched his arms over his head and sniffed.

No. No smell. Just his deodorant, mixed with the smoke from the room. But then, if he smelled bad, she’d be going in the opposite direction. Away from him. Duh.

Sometimes he seriously questioned his common sense.

He checked a few more IDs, slapped on a few more pink wristbands, and allowed in more people whose sole purpose for the evening was to get as sloshed as possible for very little money.

When he finished, he looked back to see she was gone. He sighed, scolding himself for thinking she was coming over to talk to him, when a small hand touched his arm. He yelped and jumped, looking down to see she was now beside him.

“Sorry,” she yelled over the pulsing music.

“It’s okay,” he yelled back, a little too loudly because she winced at his volume. “Um, the exit’s over there. Can’t get out this way.”

“I don’t want to leave yet. I just, I wanted to, I...”

She trailed off and became silent. She tugged at her hair and licked her lips, and Hurley felt his heartbeat quicken.

She was cute, he decided. Petite, slender, about five feet tall with a couple inches added by her shoes. Her eyes were bright green, and her hair was shoulder-length, the color of honey.

For a moment, he entertained the thought that she may be interested in him, but then he dropped back to reality.

Cute, petite girls plus Hurley does not equal hot monkey love, he thought.

Another group of college kids came in, and Hurley forced himself to do his job. When he focused back on her, she was dragging a stool from the bar. She positioned it beside his and hopped on. Her cheeks were pink from the exertion and Hurley really wanted to kiss her.

Instead, he blinked at her questioningly.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said. “For earlier.”

He shrugged. “No problem.”

“Do you mind if I sit here for a moment?”

“Won’t your friends miss you?”

A pretty girl like that must have a clique somewhere. It was like an unwritten rule. Beautiful people banded together.

She shook her head, her hair swishing back and forth and falling perfectly into place.

Nope, Hurley thought. This does not compute.

“I came alone. I’m new in town. Thought I’d see where the action was,” she said.

“Well, if you’re into drunken frat boys, this is the place,” Hurley told her.

Her eyes widened a bit, and she blushed.

“I’m not really into drunken anything, and I prefer not to call people fat,” she said.

Hurley blinked again. “Huh?”

“I don’t like drunken, fat boys, but I do like the bigger guys. My ex-boyfriend was about your size.”

Hurley nearly swallowed his tongue. He could only stare at her.

“I was actually on my way over here to talk to you,” she went on. “Then that jerk grabbed me.”

“You wanted to talk to me?” Hurley asked.

“Yeah. I think you’re cute.”

Cute. Me. Brain. Fizzle. Get a grip, Hurley! he screamed silently.

She stuck out her hand. “I’m Mara.” When he made no move to touch her, she said, “I won’t break. Really.”

“Uh, I’m Hurley,” he said, shaking her hand. She had a firm grip.

“Neat name. So what time are you off?”

“Off?”

She waved a hand. “From work. I thought we could go get something to eat, talk.”

“Talk?”

Stop acting like a retarded parrot! he screamed mentally.

“Yeah. Get to know each other.” She paused, taking in his look of disbelief. “I mean, um, if you want to. I’m sorry. You’re not interested.”

She made a move to stand, but Hurley took her hand.

“No, I’m interested,” he said. “I just, this doesn’t happen to me.”

She nodded and smiled.

“Do you know the coffeehouse on Main and Third?” he asked. “It’s open all night. Great pie.”

“I’ve passed by it a few times.”

“We can meet there when I’m done. Around three. If you’re still awake.”

“I’ll be there.”

She jumped down from her stool and headed for the exit. Just before she stepped outside, she turned and looked over her shoulder at him. She waved her fingers in his direction, then disappeared.

~*~*~

Hurley stood outside the entrance to the coffeehouse, wondering what in hell he was doing. Surely she wasn’t really in there waiting for him. He peeked in through the front window, and like a surreal vision, there she was, sitting in a booth. She was studying the menu intently, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers.

“Oh man,” Hurley groaned, scrubbing his face with both hands. He took a deep breath, told himself to be cool, and tried to flatten his hair a little. Then he straightened his shirt and walked inside.

She looked up as the bell above the door gave a slight ding, and her face broke into a relaxed smile.

“Hello, again,” she said.

Hurley slid into the empty booth seat across from her and gulped when his knees rubbed against hers.

“Sorry, tight fit,” he said.

“Would you rather sit at a table?” she asked.

“No, this is fine. I just need to adjust myself, I mean, position myself. My legs!” he cried, his face growing hot.

She dipped her head, smiling. “I make you uncomfortable. It’s endearing, Hurley.”

Hearing her say his name, he knew he was lost.

“So what’s good here?” she asked, pushing the menu towards him as a waitress came with a water glass for him.

“I’m a fan of the pecan myself,” he said. He reached for the glass and took a hearty swallow.

“I like sweet nuts,” Mara said, and Hurley choked, water dribbling from his mouth.

“Oh, uh, sure.”

Mara turned to the waitress. “Two pieces of pecan pie please.”

“With ice cream?”

Hurley nodded. “That would be great.”

He handed the menu to the waitress, and then they were alone. Mara folded her hands and leaned on the table. Hurley could only stare at her in wonder. Finally, he coughed.

“I don’t mean to offend you, but I have to know,” he said.

“Know what?”

Hurley took a deep breath. “Is this some kind of dare? A bet?”

Mara tilted her head and frowned a little. “No, it’s not. I really do want to get to know you.”

He studied her eyes for a moment and saw nothing but complete honesty there. He relaxed and smiled.

“I’m sorry for asking. It’s just that...wow, you’re so pretty, and like, I’m not.”

“Who says?”

He shrugged. “Well, society.”

“Are you healthy?”

The question caught him of guard. “I guess so. I won’t be running any marathons or anything like that, but I can make it up a flight of stairs all right. I ride a bike. I walk.”

Mara smiled. “I know skinny people that can’t do that.”

Hurley felt himself grinning. Their pie arrived, and he was surprised to see Mara practically inhale her piece, then reach across the table and swipe a bite from his plate. He laughed and she joined in.

They sat there until the sun came up, sipping coffee and just talking. Hurley hadn’t experienced anything like this before. He’d had exactly two girlfriends in his life, and neither relationship was as relaxed as these last few hours with Mara.

Hurley was the first to yawn, and they decided to call it a night. Or day.

“Are you free tonight?” she asked, pulling money from her purse.

“Whoa, what are you doing?”

She paused, her wallet open. “I’m...paying?”

Hurley shook his head. “No, no,“ he said, digging into his pockets. “I’ll take care of the check.”

“But I asked you out.”

“Ahh, no! No, it’s not right. Dude, just, no. Please, I insist.”

Mara shook her head. “You are too cute, Hurley. Fine. I’ll make a deal with you. If you pay, you have to go out with me again.”

“I can definitely handle that deal.”

He slapped a twenty on the table and took her hand. This time, he wasn’t worried about whether or not he would break her. Her hand in his felt right.

~*~*~

They had sex for the first time two weeks later. They were in his apartment, and all of a sudden, clothes were coming off. He kind of freaked out a little when he realized they were his clothes. Being naked with Mara was not exactly high on his list of things to do. He had wanted to lose a few pounds first, tone up a little.

But now, here she was beneath him, gorgeous and looking at him with a lustful expression that was making him hard. He was starting to get a pain in his elbows from holding himself above her.

Don’t squish her, he thought. God, what if I pass out on her or something? She’ll suffocate!

“Hurley,” Mara said, breaking into his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Stop thinking.”

“Oh.”

“You won’t hurt me, I promise.”

“But...I’m big.”

She laughed and gripped him between her fingers. “I’ll say.”

“Holy shit, dude. Give a guy a warning!”

“Do you want to have sex with me or not?”

“What? Yeah, I do, I just –”

She squeezed harder, making him gasp, and said, “Then do it.”

He wasn’t skilled at lovemaking, but Mara made him feel like he was a god with the way she writhed beneath him, making little noises of pleasure as he ran his hands up and down her body, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples.

He rolled, flipping their positions so she was on top. She sucked his fingers, licking the palms of his hands while, gently, she eased herself down around him, filling herself, and Hurley thought he would die from the sensations.

They lay together in his bed, her leg thrown over his in a possessive gesture.

“That,” he panted, “was incredible.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” she said.

~*~*~

He was studying to get a Masters Degree in architecture. She was going to be an elementary school teacher. He joked he’d build her her own school.

They had a lot in common, and Hurley knew he’d fallen in love, but Mara said it first, right before Christmas break. He took her home to meet his parents, where he got his big genes from, and even though an outsider would have played the “which of these is not like the other” game, she blended right in like one of them. She took him home over Spring Break, and while he was nervous, her parents and brother quickly put him at ease.

They moved in together and settled into a comfortable existence. When Hurley was offered the chance to study in Sydney for a semester, they were thrilled but sad at the same time. She couldn’t go with him, and he couldn’t pass up this tremendous opportunity. But he would stay if she really wanted.

So she took him to the airport and waited with him until he absolutely had to move into the restricted area.

“Is it too late to be selfish and say I don’t want you to go?” she whispered as he held her in a tight hug.

“No. Just say it, Mara, and I won’t go.”

She sniffled and wiped at her nose with her hand. “I can’t. I know this is important to you.”

“I’ll write, I’ll call, I’ll email all the time,“ he promised. “It’s just a few months. We can make it.”

“Really?”

He nodded and tipped her chin up so she would look at him. “Really. Because when I get back, we’re really gonna do it.”

She giggled. “We do it all the time, Hurley.”

“No, I mean the other thing. The whole, uh, you know, the marriage thing.”

She blinked at him then, her eyes bright with tears. “Huh?”

“I wanna marry you, Mara. For real. It’s, like, the most important thing in my future. Marrying you. That’s my goal.”

“Is this a proposal?”

“Well, yeah. Sorry it’s so lame.”

She laughed and jumped to throw her arms around his neck.

“It’s perfect, and I accept. Yes, I’ll marry you!”

He kissed her and spun her around, memorizing every detail of the moment. After he walked through the security gate, he looked back over his shoulder to see her waving at him.

“I’m coming back! I promise!” he yelled.

It was the last time he saw her.

~*~*~

While in Sydney, he found the perfect diamond ring for Mara. He walked by the jewelry store for weeks before finally buying it, two days before his flight home. He was going to give it to her as soon as he saw her again. He was going to give her a proper proposal, with him down on one knee and everything.

The ring box was tucked in his pocket when the plane crashed.

~*~*~

Each morning he forced himself to get up, to move, to do something. He couldn’t just waste away in the middle of nowhere, not while she was waiting for him.

He looked at the ring every day. This was one item that Sawyer wasn’t getting his hands on. This ring was keeping him going. He vowed to get off this island and get back to Mara.

He’d made a promise, and he intended to keep it.

~end