“Oh… uh. No, it’s… it was fine, I guess. I just needed some air.”
He turned his whole body to face me and leaned his hip against the railing, his thick arms crossed over his chest. I would have given anything for the lighting to be bright enough for me to make out the intricate designs that covered every square inchof skin on his arms. “You don’t sound too convincing, sweetness.”
I smiled nervously, giving him a small shrug. “Not really my scene,” I admitted. “I’m only here because my best friend dragged me along. She’s kind of obsessed with the band who’s apparently hosting this thing.”
“And you aren’t?”
“Aren’t what?”
“You’re not a fan of Civil Corruption?”
“Not really.” Then I realized how bad what I’d just said sounded. This guy could have been a friend of the band members for all I knew, and I’d just basically insulted them. “I mean, I’m sure they’re great. I just have a different taste in music.”
“And what’s your taste?” He was still grinning at me, so I was able to relax in the knowledge that I hadn’t just put my foot in my mouth. “I like Top 40.”
He let out a pained groan, throwing his head back and slapping a hand to his chest. “Fuck. Top 40? You’re killin’ me, beautiful.”
“Sorry,” I giggled, somewhat surprised that I actually found myself enjoying this strange man’s company. “It is what it is. My friend has tried converting me for years. Guess I’m a lost cause.”
“That’s a fuckin’ shame.” His voice came out gruff as his eyes did a sweep of my body. I shivered under his scrutiny, and it had nothing to do with the chilly temperature.
“So what about you? What made you sneak away from the debauchery going on downstairs?”
“Just needed a break,” he answered, uncrossing his arms and taking one step closer.
I cleared my throat and searched the recesses of my brain for something to talk about,anything. “Are you a friend of the band’s or something?”
“Or something,” he replied vaguely, closing another inch or so of distance. “I’m Garrett, by the way.”
“G-Gwen,” I stuttered, his close proximity causing my brain to glitch. Never in my life had I had the attention of such an attractive man. It was downright overwhelming just feeling his gaze on me.
“Pretty name, Gwen.”
“Thanks.” I smiled. Then, like I always did when I was out of my element, I started to ramble. “My full name’s actually Gwendolyn. My mom had this obsession with romance novels when she was pregnant with me. You know, the bodice-ripper ones with the Fabio-looking dude on the cover tearing open a woman’s corset? Anyway, she loved those books and picked a name that sounded like it belonged in a romance book. I guess it could have been worse.”
And just like that, the pleasant floaty feeling I’d been experiencing disappeared and stark sadness took its place. It happened any time I thought about my mother. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t stop missing her. I dropped my head as tears stung the backs of my eyes.
“Hey now.” Garrett’s voice came out soft and quiet. His fingers put pressure under my chin until I was forced to look up. I blinked rapidly, dreading the thought of crying in front of this perfect stranger. “What’s that look about, beautiful?”
He was so close I could smell the whiskey on his breath. The small laugh that bubbled from my chest sounded self-deprecating, even to my own ears. I sniffled and took a step away, breaking our connection as I brushed at my damp cheeks. “Nothing, sorry. I’ve just had a rough week… or weeks… or months, actually. Just ignore me.”
One corner of his mouth tipped up, making a dimple pop out. “You know what I think you need, beautiful Gwen?”
“What’s that?”
“To get really fuckin’ drunk and let it all hang out for a night. No better cure for what’s botherin’ you. Trust me.”
A genuine bark of laughter burst from my throat. “Is that right?”
“Sure is.” He graced me with a full-blown smile that made my belly flip. “And it just so happens you’ve come to the right place.”
“Fuck, sweetness.Fuuuuck.”
“Garrett,” I whimpered, my back arching off the bed as he slammed into me, his cock sliding along a place inside that caused stars to burst behind my eyelids.
His hand in my hair twisted, jerking my head back and sending tiny stinging pulses of electricity from my scalp to my clit.
The night had turned out to be so much better than I ever could have imagined. I’d spent hours on that terrace with Garrett, talking and laughing. I’d opened up to him about everything: my mother and father, my dying dream of becoming a writer. I released it all, letting the words spill out of me and shedding some of that weight that had been sitting on my chest for as long as I could remember.
