Disclaimer: I own none of the characters.

The Right Guy

I always pick the wrong guys.

It's a problem that I'm well aware of and my best friend, Rosalie, never lets me forget it.

In fact, she made a point of meeting every Friday at The Port Bar to discuss my horrendous taste in men.

"It's like you look around a room of perfectly nice men with good jobs and choose to ask out the only one who's living in an alley and earns money by washing people's cars on street corners." Rosalie said pointedly as she stirred the stick in her mojito.

I sighed heavily, tapping my fingernail against the glass of wine that Edward, the barman, had put down as soon as I'd come in.

"I know. I just… I don't know, I just have poor judgement."

"Tell me about it. And you don't like to hurt people's feelings. Look at Mike – you actually lived with the guy for two years before admitting that you'd been faking orgasms the whole time."

Edward, who had been filling a beer glass on the tap beside us, looked up sharply and I rolled my eyes.

"Thanks for sharing with the whole room, Rose."

"Two years? Ouch." Edward winced, "What took you so long, Bella?"

"He was sweet!" I cried, thinking back to the blond haired, blue eyed Mike. He really was sweet, we just hadn't been… compatible in the bedroom. After two years of taking care of my, ahem, needs, I'd finally felt the need to sit Mike down and tell him that it wasn't working.

"And then you went in the complete opposite direction and dated Royce. What a dick." Rosalie gave a disgusted huff at the memory of Royce King.

Royce King had been gorgeous. All tall, blond and cheekbones. He had treated me like a princess at first until it quickly became clear that he was after one thing.

Actually, two things.

The first was my pussy. The second was my best friend.

Sadly, I'd already granted him access to the first but Rosalie had broken his nose when he'd tried to kiss her, so it hadn't been all bad.

"I know I have shit taste in men, OK? But what am I supposed to do, be single forever? A woman has needs, Rosalie." I lifted an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes.

"This isn't just about getting off, Bella. That's what vibrators are for and I know you have at least two because I saw them when I helped you move out of Mike's place."

Edward, who had been lingering, smirked and I threw him a dirty look.

"Refill, Edward and put it on Rosalie's tab. And I don't know why you're ragging on me, you're single too."

"Yes, but I had sex last week. You haven't had sex for two months."

"Edward, just put the bottle on Rosalie's tab." I ordered him and he smirked, winking as he filled my glass. He was easy to spot across the bar, his bright hair shining like a penny. Pair that incredible hair with stunning green eyes and an extremely manly jaw, he made a fortune in tips from the female patrons that frequented the bar, usually passing their telephone numbers over with the bills.

Rosalie and I had been regulars at the bar for almost three years, finding it on my twenty-second birthday. Edward had given us free shots and, as owner of the bar, demanded that everyone sing happy birthday to me. I'd drunkenly climbed behind the bar and ducked to avoid the stares of everyone else and Edward, amused by my idiocy, had sneaked me packets of potato chips and cokes until I'd fallen asleep. Then he'd helped Rosalie carry me into a cab. This man had seen me at my very worst and continued to serve me alcohol.

It was a shame that there weren't more men like Edward in the world.

"Not having sex for two months doesn't bother me as much as it bothers you." I said pointedly, "I want to actually meet someone before I jump into bed with them. I know that isn't as much of an issue as it is with you, but that's what I want. I am going to meet a nice guy and have great sex with him and he is not going to be an asshole."

I lifted my glass of wine in a toast to myself as Rosalie rolled her eyes and ordered another mojito.

A/N: I was in the mood for something a little light-hearted, so I hope you'll enjoy this.

That English Writer.