“That obvious, eh?”
“I was trying to work out if you were on a little bicurious adventure or if you were a tourist who took a wrong turn.” She grins and I’m struck by how warm her smile is. I instantly like her.
“Honestly, I think I’m a little of both,” I reply. She laughs, open hearted and generous, then extends a hand.
“I’m Sloane,” she says, scooching over to take the stool next to me.
“Emmy,” I reply, giving her a firm shake.
“Welcome to the scene,” she says, waving her hand around the bar. “What are you looking for tonight?”
I blush. Americans are so direct. I decide I’ll be blunt back.
“Well, to tell you the truth, I’m here to kiss a woman.”
She raises her eyebrows and I see curiosity shimmering there, with a hint of mischief.
“Oh?”
“Well, to cut a very long story short, my marriage of 10 years imploded a few days ago. So, I’ve made a list of all these experiences I have always wanted to explore. I thought I’d start small and… kiss a girl,” I finish, lamely. This is sounding increasingly pathetic and Sloane’s eyes cloud with sympathy.
“Oh honey,” she replies, almost grimacing. “I think we’re going to need more drinks.”
Two hours later, she knows the whole sorry story. This stranger in a bar now knows more about me than most of my colleagues. Sloane has one of those faces that you can’t help spilling your secrets to and by our fourth round of cocktails, she’s spitting feathers.
“I say this with love, girl, but FUCK THIS MAN.” She slams her drink down on the table, sloshing a bit over the side, and I giggle. Sloane’s in her mid-20s and yet she’s got so much figured out already. I want to be her when I grow up.
“Yes, fuck that man! Or rather, don’t fuck that man! He’s boring in bed, Sloane, which is almost as big a crime as cheating.” I’m slurring very slightly now but Sloane either doesn’t notice or chalks it up to my inherent British charm. I’m sure it’s that.
“Urgh! So true. You deserve someone who really knows their way around.” She swirls her finger in the air in a way that’s impossibly suggestive and I stifle a giggle into my palm. “This list needs to be a fast track to every slutty little fantasy you’ve ever had. No strings, no feelings, no second dates, just hot hot sex. You know?”
“I know! Or rather, I think I know. I’ve only ever slept with one person,” I confess and she stops her finger twirling, mouth agape. I’ve already learned that Sloane’s a pansexual New Yorker with a penchant for threesomes and women with lots of ink. Of course, I look like a prim little convent girl compared to her.
“What?!”
“We met when I was 18 and I lost my virginity to him.” I shrug, taking another sip that I definitely don’t need. I wince and swallow it anyway.
“Good god, woman. We need to fix this immediately.” My eyes widen. “Well, not immediately. I can’t exactly make you come right here at the table. That would be frowned upon.”
I snort-laugh and she grins back.
“I can kiss you though, if you want to tick your first item off the Fuckit List?” She says it so casually that I almost startle.
“Go on then,” I reply, like it’s a dare and we’re both 15.
Suddenly the sound in the bar becomes muffled in my ears and Sloane and I are the only thing I am aware of. She leans closer, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear. The next thing I know, her lips are on mine, soft and enquiring.
Kissing Sloane is completely unlike kissing Colin. Sloane’s kiss is a question and I part my lips in answer, as her tongue slides in to brush mine. One of her hands moves to cup my jaw, the other goes into my hair. She’s gently angling me and I follow her lead, our kiss taking on its own momentum as I lose myself in the soft but confident strokes of her tongue against mine. I let out a small moan and she pulls back slightly, smiling. The whole thing only lasted a few seconds but I feel dazed as she sits back properly, smirking.
“Not bad, Emmy Warner, not bad at all.”
“Whoa. That was… amazing,” I reply, lost for words. I feel like my whole brain has gone temporarily offline. I haven’t kissed anyone except Colin since I was a teenager and I have beenmissing out.
She grins again.
“Now, tell me what’s next on the Fuckit List? One down… Thirty or so to go, right?”
CHAPTER 7
