It was hard to admit she was right, but I knew it wasn’t normal for a twenty-eight-year-old single female to put as much effort into avoiding a relationship as most others put into finding one. Even so, I wasn’t interested in opening up my heart to be hurt again. My father, my mother, and my ex—all gone. My sister would be added to that list soon. All for different reasons, but gone just the same.
I had no illusions of a happily ever after for myself, but there was no denying that a little sexual satisfaction would be a welcome addition to my life. I’d never considered casual sex before, but I hadn’t thought I’d be alone at this age either.
I smoothed the material down on the front of my dress.
Focus, Chloe.
No more thoughts about sex.
But my mind kept wandering.
Maybe if the sex came with no strings attached…and with someone who looked like that guy I’d noticed earlier in the bar. Spending a night between the sheets with a guy like that certainly wouldn’t be a hardship.
Crap, I’d lasted all of five seconds not thinking about sex. I had the mind of a thirteen-year-old boy tonight. Had to be the booze talking; I sounded nothing like myself.
Whatever.
It wasn’t like I had to make a decision on the spot. For tonight, I’d have fun at my bestie’s bachelorette party and see how I felt in the morning—after the effects of the alcohol wore off.
My arms were heavy as I fished a small comb out of my purse and ran it through my long blond strands. Some hairspray would be good, but there was no sign of the usual assortment of beauty products on the expansive granite counter. Too bad, especially since there hadn’t been enough room to fit any in the microscopic cocktail bag I was carrying.
I returned the comb to my purse and straightened the pale yellow dress Jackie had talked me into wearing. Apparently hems that reached only mid-thigh were for streetwalkers and the trendy alike. As satisfied as I was going to get, I headed toward the bathroom door to re-join the girls. My legs felt leaden, like I’d spent hours in a hot tub, as my stilettos clicked on the marble floor.
With my hand on the door, I glanced back to make sure I hadn’t left anything on the counter when I noticed…urinals?
What. The. Hell.
Shit.
Say it isn’t so.
No, no. I did not go into the men’s room. No freaking way. But with one more panicked glance, I realized I most definitely
did
.
Definitely blaming this one on the booze.
Either that or the artsy signage outside the door that left anyone guessing as to whether the figure resembled a man or a woman.
Turning quickly to make my escape, I whirled around and took a step forward, only to run straight into the opening bathroom door. Pain exploded in my nose and tears immediately pricked my eyes. Someone was entering the bathroom and pushing the door in.
Stunned, I took a step backward and shook my head. Warm hands settled on my upper arms and steadied me. I looked up and was speechless. The hands belonged to the man with the memorable blue eyes I’d spotted earlier.
Of course, why go for slight mortification when you could really out-do yourself?
Sex on legs—that was my only coherent thought at that moment. And I was pretty sure from the grin on his face and the seduction in his eyes that I’d made his hit list.
Elisabeth Grace
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