I try to catch his eye, but he doesn’t look my way. Not once. I don’t know what I expect. A wink? A nod? Something to acknowledge what happened? I get nothing. And why would I? This is what I wanted, right? No strings. Get off, get back to work. Mission accomplished. He’s probably already erased me, placed me in a box labeled “dive bar blowjob,” and moved on with his night.
It shouldn’t bother me. That’s literally what I do all the time. Get laid, get gone. No attachments. So why do I feel so weird about it? Why is my stomach in knots? And the fact that it’s a dude making me feel this way makes it a thousand times more fucked up.
“Skylar,” Roxy says, appearing at my elbow.
“Huh?”
“The blonde. That’s her name.” She nods toward the high-top. “She asked about you again.”
“Did she?”
“She did.” Roxy grins. “And I may have accidentally told her you’re single and very well-endowed.”
“Rox.”
“Hey, I saw you talking to that football player.” She nudges me with her hip. “You send jocks my way, I send hot blondes yours. Tit for tat.”
I don’t even have a comeback for that. My brain is still too scrambled. I just shake my head and grab a bottle of gin. I need to pull it together. If Roxy notices anything off, I’ll never hear the end of it.
Around midnight, the crowd starts thinning. One by one, the high-tops empty out. Clubbers head somewhere louder. Some couples stumble out, hands all over each other. The football team’s also packing it in. They down their last round of shots, stack the glasses, and start filing out, one after the other. Not Brock, though. He’s still at the table, deep in conversation with another guy.
When Skylar’s friends finally leave, she makes her way to the bar instead. She leans forward, giving me a perfect view down her top.
“Leaving?” I ask, forcing a smile.
“My friends are dragging me to some club.” She smiles, teeth white under the bar lights. “But I was hoping you might be free later.”
“I’ve got to close up,” I say, hearing how flat I sound.
“What about after? I don’t mind waiting.”
“Sorry. Long night.” I gesture at the mess behind me. “Gotta crash.”
“Oh.” Her smile falters. “Well, maybe another night?” She pulls a pen from her purse and scribbles something on a napkin. “Here’s my number. Just in case.” She slides it across the bar.
“Thanks.”
“Have a good night.”
“You too.”
She gives me one last look before heading out. I watch her go and feel nothing. No regret. No pull. Just a weird hollow ache. Ten minutes in a bathroom stall with a guy has done what a lifetime of one-night stands never managed: it broke my programming. Killed my interest in the easy conquest.
I crumple the napkin and toss it in the trash.
“Damn,” Roxy says, leaning against the bar. “You actually turned her down. I thought for sure you were gonna cave.”
“Told you. I’m motivated.”
I don’t feel great about lying to my friend. But what am I supposed to say? Sorry, Rox, I didn’t fuck the hot blonde because I got a spectacular blowjob from a giant football player in the men’s room. Oh, and by the way, I think I might be less straight than I thought. Yeah, no. That’s not a conversation I’m ready to have.
“You’re actually going to win this, aren’t you?” She looks genuinely surprised.
“Don’t sound so shocked.”
“I’m not. I’m just…” She shakes her head. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.” Because right now, I don’t even know myself.
