When I finally reached her, she smiled at me as she sipped her cocktail, her eyes checking me out over the top of the glass. Lucky for me, her glass was nearly empty.
I motioned for the bartender. “Can you get this lady another? On me, of course,” I said.
“Now why would you go and do a thing like that?” she asked. “How do you know I want another? Seems a little presumptuous if you ask me.”
I shrugged. “I don't,” I said. “Just trying to be neighborly.”
She gave me a coy look as the bartender delivered her drink – some fancy martini of sorts. Nothing too fruity and sweet for this girl apparently.
She took a sip of her new drink and smiled at me. “How do you know I don't have a boyfriend in the bathroom, who is going come out at any second and kick your ass for talking to me?”
“Kick my ass?” I let out a low whistle. “I'm almost scared.”
She laughed. “Presumptuous and cocky,” she said. “You're off to a great start.”
I shrugged. “I mean, he can try, of course. But good luck to him if he does. But there's no way anyone is kicking my ass. Sorry, it's not cocky. It's just a fact.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow as she looked over at me. “Just a fact, huh? Wow, you really are pretty cocky.”
“Not cocky when it's true,” I said with a laugh. “Ex-military. I tend to have an upper hand in most fights.”
I wasn't throwing around the military bit to impress her – though, if it worked, kudos to me. But I did watch her facial expression. Just to see if what I'd said had any effect on her whatsoever.
Her face remained neutral.
“So when did you get back to the Bay Area, soldier boy?” she asked. “Been away long?”
“Too long, if you ask me. Too fucking long. I feel like I've lost touch and my connection with everyone and everything here,” I said a split second before realizing that it was too much information too fast and changed the subject. “So what's a pretty thing like you doing all alone out at a bar?”
“Oh I dunno,” she said, parting those perfectly red lips and nibbling on her lower one gently, “Maybe I like hanging out at places like this to bring comfort and joy to all the lonely men who also have no one to go home to.”
“Perfect, because I definitely don't have anyone to go home to,” I said. “I think that qualifies me for your services.”
The way she looked at me – as if I was a piece of meat – took me by surprise. She looked me up and down, an approving look in her eye as she slowly returned her gaze back to my face.
God, it had been so long. Too fucking long since a woman had looked at me the way she was looking at me. It had been too fucking long since I'd last been with a woman. I was horny as hell and this sexy little thing standing in front of me was pretty much begging for me to take her home.
It seemed like a dream come true. A kick ass birthday present from the gods.
It seemed like it was too good to be true. Which meant that there had to be a catch, right?
AMELIA
He didn't have to know my reasons. He didn't even have to know my name. When I set out for the bar that night, I had one goal in mind – to find a man to sleep with. That's all I wanted, all I needed, and all I was looking for.
I needed my rebound boy and something that was about as far from serious as I could get. All I wanted was someone to have a little fun with – someone to remind myself that I was worthy, sexy, and desirable. And well, because it had been too long since I'd been with anyone other than my scumbag ex, Charlie. I thought that maybe hooking up with somebody new, if only for a night, might help cleanse that palate a bit.
He looked a little sceptical, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but we walked out of that bar together and he called a cab. We talked, yes – inconsequential small talk, for the most part – but I never caught his name and never told him mine. Names didn't matter. I didn't need to know anything about him and he didn't need to know anything about me. We both needed something from each other – something one hot, passionate night of sex would accomplish.
A hot, passionate night of sex with no strings or attachments, of course. That wasn't what
this was about.
We got to his place – a house that seemed much too large for a single man like him. Having a house in the Bay Area was hard enough as it was thanks to the rising home values, so I was impressed. But I didn't ask him any questions. I didn't want or need to know. He was ex-military and had a smokin' hot body – that was all I needed to know. He'd been away, had probably seen some horrible shit, seemed to be having a crap night at that bar, and just needed to get laid. Nothing wrong with that.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked as I stared at the fireplace.
The mantle – like the walls in his place – was empty, no pictures or personal touches in sight. It looked so barren and cold. Sterile. It was almost like he'd never moved in fully or he was hoping to move out soon. The place just had the feel of a single guy who had one foot out the door. Might be why he was alone, I thought to myself.