Why am I here?
I know exactly why. Because getting turned on by my friend slash roommate slash best friend’s widow brought up a bunch of feelings I do not even want tobeginto unpack. I feel gross, and ashamed, and sick to my stomach. What the fuck is wrong with me?
It shouldn’t matter that seeing her like that was maybe the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’sAbby, and Abby can’t be hot. She’s…Abby.
What the fuck is wrong with me, indeed.
It’s got to be that I’ve been celibate for longer than I care to admit. Between all the work at the fire station, hanging out with the group, and spending time with Granny, there’s not time for much else. And normally I don’t care. But if I’m so pent up that justseeingher like that gave me the strongest orgasm of my life, then I havegotto get laid.
The problem is, I’m no good at a one-night stand. Never have been. It takes me too long to warm up to someone enough to want to sleep with them, and when someone is just looking for a good time, there’s not a lot of patience there.
But I don’t have much of a choice tonight. I’ve got to make this work–get it out of my system. Downing the rest of my beer in one go, I let my gaze drift around the room until I catch the eye of a woman a few seats down from where I’m seated at the bar.
She smiles, wiggling her fingers in a wave. I return her smile, lifting my hand in response, then push off the stool and walk over to her.
“Do you smile at all the girls like that, or am I just special?” she asks sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes.
Okay, here you go.
“Well,” I say, furrowing my brow like I’m really contemplating it. “Considering you’re the only girl I’ve smiled at tonight, I’d say you’re pretty special.”
She beams in response, and I sit down next to her, ordering a round of drinks. She’s pretty–her brown hair is cut just above her collarbone, and I’m sure her big doe eyes do it for lots of men. For some reason, I get a mental image of a monster that lures you in with its cuteness before it goes for the kill.
“So, what’s your name?” she asks, leaning in unnecessarily close and placing her hand on my forearm.
“Jack,” I shout over the loud music. “What about you?”
“Danielle,” she says, hand still resting on my arm. “But everyone calls me Dani.Youcan call me whatever you want.”
Subtle.
“Well, Dani,” I ask, already regretting this. “Tell me about yourself.”
For the next twenty minutes, the girl doesn’t take a single break from talking. I hear everything from her astrology sign toher childhood pets to her crazy ex-boyfriend to what she had for breakfast this morning.
“Sorry,” she smiles sheepishly. “I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
“What’s there to be nervous about?”
She bites her lip, unashamedly looking me up and down.
“You’re like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen,” she says in a sultry voice. “I’m trying not to fumble right now.”
“I think you’re doing just fine, Dani.”
With another grin, she trails her fingers up and down my arm.
“Do you wanna get out of here?”
No.
“Sure, let’s do it,” I agree.
Settling up the tab, I lead her through the crowd with my hand on the small of her back. The second we get outside, she turns on me, lips crashing against mine as she backs me into the wall.
I kiss her back, trying to feel any sort of response to her. She gets more into it, practically riding my thigh out here in the open. But the more enthusiastic she gets, the more I want to run away.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, a very welcome distraction.
