It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, no matter how amazing it was. I’m not the type to spend the night with a man and then show up on his doorstep two days later and profess any amount of love, but the look in his eyes doesn’t say,I don’t remember your name. It screamshe doesn’t remember me at all, and that’s a slap in the face, especially considering how many times I’ve reflected on that night.
The best sex of my life wasn’t even good enough for this man to recognize me.
Chapter 2
Spade
My grin never falters, but it’s clear from the grimace on her face that my tight jeans and leather cut aren’t having the same effect on her that it normally does with women.
I don’t let it bother me.
“I was thinking maybe after this is done, you’d like to grab a cup of coffee.”
She slow blinks at me like I’ve somehow managed to sprout an extra head.
“Or a beer,” I offer, thinking I’m a dick for thinking all women like coffee.
I give her my best panty-dropping smile, well aware of how handsome I am.
“You’re such an asshole,” she spits before spinning around and walking away.
Tilting my head in confusion at her sudden anger, I watch the woman walk away.
She’s in a pair of jeans that I just can’t seem to pull my eyes from, her heart-shaped ass swaying back and forth as she reenters the nursing facility.
“I take it she’s not interested in a repeat performance?” Ugly asks on a laugh as he walks up and claps me on the back.
“She wouldn’t even shake my hand,” I mutter, looking down at it to check for dirt, but even my fingernails are trimmed, no dirt in sight.
“Guess she wasn’t impressed with what you gave her.”
“A smile?”
Ugly blinks at me, a long pause separating us before he speaks again. “You’re joking, right?”
I shrug. “It was a great smile. It usually works.”
“You don’t remember her?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Should I?”
My team member scoffs before walking away, his head shaking back and forth on his entire walk into the facility.
“You had sex with her,” Boomer says, a dryness in his tone that threatens to raise my hackles.
“I didn’t,” I answer.
“That wasn’t a question. That’s Sylvie Davis, Faith’s best friend. You had sex with her the night Faith was drugged atJake’s.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Right when we got to New Mexico,” Boomer explains. “That guy put a date rape drug in—”
“I remember what happened with Faith,” I interrupt. “Fuck. Did I really?”
Boomer is next to shake his head and walk away.
I feel like an asshole for the next ten minutes, but then the residents begin to head outside, many of them Veterans themselves or spouses of men who served our country.