Authors: Locklyn Marx
He was obviously hitting on her, what with picking up the straw wrapper like that and offering it to her. But why? Her hair was a mess, she was wearing black yoga pants and a cream-colored t-shirt, and she knew her eyes had circles under them from spending the afternoon crying in her hotel room.
“So do you want the straw wrapper?” the guy asked, raising his eyebrows at her.
“Thanks,” she said and took it from him, mostly because she didn’t know what else to do. She was kind of mesmerized by how good-looking he was. Their hands brushed, and she felt a shiver of electricity slide up her arm.
He sat down next to her without being invited.
“You doing work stuff?” He gestured to the list she was writing.
“Uh, no,” she said quickly. She put the napkin into the Expera folder and slid them both into her beach bag. Hopefully he didn’t share the bartender’s talent for upside down reading.
“You sure? Because if you’re doing work stuff, it’s okay.”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay.” She thought he looked a little disappointed. But that didn’t make sense.
Why would he be disappointed that she wasn’t doing work? Maybe he really did think she was someone he knew? Or maybe his friends had dared him to do this, and he was looking for some kind of out. She turned around and scanned the bar. But it was empty except for the bikini-clad college girls who had moved on to doing drunken, giggling body shots off each other, much to the delight of the bartender.
“So are you here by yourself?” the guy next to her asked.
Kenley thought about lying. It was decidedly loserish to be on vacation by yourself, but she couldn’t think of a cover story quick enough. “Yes.” She hesitated.
“Are you?”
“For the most part.”
“For the most part? Is that some kind of guy code that I’m supposed to decipher?”
“Some kind of guy code?”
“Yeah, like ‘for the most part I’m here by myself, but come and meet my girlfriend and the three of us can have some fun’?” Now
that
would make sense. When it came to threesomes, guys were notoriously not picky. Maybe he thought she was an easy mark. Or maybe his girlfriend had picked her out, thought she was just attractive enough to sleep with but not enough to be a threat.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He took a handful of peanuts off the bowl on the bar and had the decency not to look confused. Kenley hated that, when guys acted all surprised if you hinted that they might be up to something nefarious like cruising around for threesomes.
“That’s too bad,” she said, deciding to mess with him a little bit. She ran her finger around the lip of the glass holding the margarita the bartender had brought her. “I tend to get crazy when I get a little rum in me.” She licked her finger and waited for him to look impressed.
“There’s no rum in a margarita,” he said. He looked at her drink and frowned.
“And besides, I sent you a pina colada.” He turned back toward the bartender and started to motion him over, an exasperated look on his face. It was the kind of look that made it clear he was used to getting what he wanted. It wasn’t arrogance exactly– it was more like he wasn’t going to settle for getting pushed around.
“It’s okay,” Kenley said, reaching up and pulling down his arm. “I like margaritas better anyway. And either way I’m not going to sleep with you.” Even through his bulky sweatshirt she could feel the curve of his bicep. Her heart started racing and warmth flooded her cheeks.
“Oh, really?” he said, turning to her with a grin. “And what makes you think I want to sleep with you?” He moved a little closer to her, and Kenley got a whiff of some kind of cologne. It was dark and musty, and she felt heat pulse through her body.
“Don’t you?” she asked, leaning in closer to him. “Isn’t that why you sent me a drink?”
“I don’t just sleep with women the first night I meet them,” he said. “I’m not that kind of guy.” But she could tell he was teasing her, that he was exactly that kind of guy, that he did sleep with women the first night he met them, and that he wasn’t used to getting turned down.
But she definitely wasn’t going to have sex with him, no matter what kind of alcohol he bought her, or how good-looking he was. Kenley just wasn’t the one-night stand type. In fact, her sexual experiences were limited to that of the long-term boyfriend variety. And in her twenty-nine years, she’d had three of them. Jack in high school, Adam in college, and most recently, Jeremy. She was pretty much a serial monogamist.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like sex. In fact, she loved sex. But sex with strangers had always seemed like it would be too awkward and fumbling. And where were people even meeting the guys they were having all these one-night stands with anyway? At parties? At bars? Kenley worked late every Friday and Saturday night (or at least she had when she’d actually been employed), and on the rare occasions she did show up at a bar, she was always looking tired and disheveled -- definitely not like the kind of girl you’d want to take home. Not that she looked like the kind of girl you’d want to take home now. Although maybe the fact that she was wearing yoga pants made her seem like the sort who didn’t value herself enough not to engage in random sex with strangers.
“It’s good that you don’t sleep with people the first night you meet them,” Kenley said. “Because I don’t either.”
“Perfect.” The man nodded. “Then there won’t be any confusion when we don’t sleep together.”
“Definitely not.”
“So do you want to know my name?” he asked. “Since we’re not going to be sleeping together?”
She shook her head. “That makes no sense,” she said. “Why would I want to know your name if we’re
not
going to be sleeping together?”
“Hmmm.” He tilted his head and thought about it, then nodded. “Good point.”
They sat there for a second, not saying anything. His knee was so close to hers that Kenley thought she might explode. She felt flushed and she kept thinking about sleeping with him. Now that they’d been talking about it, she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Which was ridiculous. She hardly knew him.
She needed a distraction, so she motioned for the bartender, who sighed loudly and then pulled himself away from the girls doing body shots. “I’ll have another margarita,” she said.
She needed something to cool herself down. The alcohol was actually probably making her hotter, and what she really wanted was a Diet Coke. But she couldn’t order a Diet Coke, because then whatever this guy’s name was would think she didn’t trust herself to order alcohol, that if she got too drunk she’d go back on her promise and have sex with him.
“Another margarita?” The bartender was looking at her blankly. “Weren’t you just drinking a pina colada?”
“She was supposed to be,” the guy next to her said, “but you fucked it all up.”
“Sorry.” The bartender looked slightly scared. “Do you want another one?”
“Yes,” Kenley said, sighing, “Why else would I have called you over here?”
“No, I mean, do you want another margarita? Or another pina colada?” He rolled his eyes, like he couldn’t believe he had to deal with her obvious stupidity.
“Whatever,” she said, waving her hand. “Just bring me something.”
“That kid’s a pain in the ass.” Her not-going-to-be-a-one-night-stand shook his head. Then he lowered his voice. “I might have to beat his ass.”
“Do you make a habit of beating up bartenders?”
“No,” he said, “but he got smart with you.”
“So you were defending my honor?”
“Is that okay?” He swiveled his bar stool toward her, and somehow, without even realizing it, she’d turned toward him as well. Their legs intertwined, and he laid his hand on her leg casually, like they were old friends.
“I don’t know.” She pretended she was thinking about it. “I mean, you don’t even know my name. Now you want to beat someone up for me?”
“What’s your name?”
“Kenley.”
“Kenley? That sounds made up.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out her license. She held it up in front of him, making sure to keep her finger over the picture.
“Kenley Mitchell,” he read. He went to take it, but she snatched it away and slid it back into her wallet.
“Afraid I’m going to see your picture?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I’m afraid you’re going to see my address.”
“You think I’m going to stalk you?”
“Good chance.”
He nodded, like it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Kenley appreciated the honesty.
“So now that I know your name, can we sleep together?” he asked. A cocky grin played on his lips. They were still turned toward each other and Kenley’s face flamed.
“No,” Kenley said. But even as she was saying the words, she was wondering why not. Wasn’t a one-night stand something everyone should experience once in their life? Here was this totally hot guy, right next to her, basically coming right out and saying that he wanted to sleep with her. She could do a lot worse. And besides, what had playing it safe gotten her? Nothing. Her job was gone, she had no boyfriend, hardly any friends….even all the money she’d been so careful to save had been blown on this trip.
“Actually,” she said, and took another huge sip of her drink for courage. “Maybe we should.”
***
Chad was startled. The girl from Expera that he’d been trying to get to sleep with him had now suddenly said that maybe they should. It was surprising for a few reasons, mostly because he hadn’t thought she had it in her. It had only taken him a couple of seconds of talking to her to realize she was one of those good girls, the kind that played it safe. He could tell by the way she had first reacted to the suggestion of sleeping with him, and the way she’d gotten flustered when he touched her leg.
But if that was true, then why didn’t she know who he was? Those kind of girls always did their homework – so it made sense that she would have figured out what he looked like, who he was, everything down to his favorite sports drink before the meeting tomorrow. It didn’t make sense. Was his disguise that good that she really didn’t recognize him?
He pulled his hat off and set it on the bar, then turned so that he was looking right at her. “Let’s start over,” he said. “Hi, I’m Chad. Chad Parnell.” He held his hand out, readying himself for the look of recognition and admiration that was about to cross her face, or maybe for her to be so surprised that she’d spit her drink out all over the bar or something.
“I’m Kenley,” she said, giving him a smile. A normal smile. The kind of smile you’d give a guy you were meeting in a bar. A random guy you were meeting in a bar, not a famous baseball player.
“I remember,” he said, smiling back. He decided to give it a few seconds and so he kept staring at her, waiting for her to recognize him. But she didn’t. It was getting a little awkward, actually, to just keep looking at her without saying anything.
And that’s when he figured it out. She was calling his bluff! She knew exactly who he was, but she was trying to pretend like she didn’t. He’d had this happen before, although not that often. Girls would act like they didn’t know him, or that they could care less that he was a professional baseball player. It was always bullshit, of course.
The ones who acted like they didn’t care were the ones who cared the most.
Anyway, that was obviously what this Kenley girl was doing – pretending she didn’t know who he was. But why? Just to mess with him? She didn’t look like the type to be manipulative, but whatever the reason, Chad was determined not to let Kenley get the best of him.
He set his drink down on the bar, and leaned in close to her. Then he put his hand back on her leg, making sure that his lips were touching her ear when he started to whisper.
“So, Kenley,” he said. “Did you mean what you said?”
“When?” She tried to swivel her chair around, to turn away from him, but he kept his grip firmly on her legs, forcing her to stay close to him.
“When you said maybe we should sleep together.”
She tried to pull away again, and after a second, he finally let her. She took a sip of her drink, and he could tell she was flustered. Her cheeks were flushed, and her blue eyes were bright with excitement. “Maybe.”
“Huh.” He leaned back a little on his stool and cocked his head like he was thinking. “Okay.” He nodded, stood up, and then leaned back down to whisper in her ear again. “I’m going up to my room,” he said. “I’m in the penthouse. If you want to come up and join me, I’d love it. If not, no hard feelings.”
He squeezed her shoulder, threw some money on the bar for the drinks, and then walked toward the exit without looking back.
Kenley stared at the money Chad had thrown down, her heart pounding. She couldn’t just go up to his room and sleep with him, could she? That would be crazy.
That would be insane. That would be so not like her. God, he was hot. She remembered how his hands felt on her legs, how his breath had felt against her skin as he whispered in her ear.
Maybe she could just go up and check out his room. He said he was in the penthouse, which was intriguing. She’d never seen a penthouse before. It didn’t mean that anything was going to
happen.
They could just hang out, she could check out his room and then leave whenever she wanted. It would be kind of rude not to, when you thought about it. He’d invited her after all, and even though he’d said no hard feelings, it wouldn’t be polite to just not show up.
“Hey!” she yelled to the bartender. “Hey, you!” She was talking louder than she’d intended, which probably meant she was a little bit buzzed. She lowered her voice.
“Hey!” she said again. “Come here, I need to ask you something.”
The bartender reluctantly pulled himself away from the two college coeds, one of whom was now licking salt off the other one’s stomach.
“Another drink already?” he asked, picking up her empty glass. He looked at it doubtfully, like he thought maybe she’d had enough.
“No.” She slid the hundred-dollar bill Chad had left across the bar, hoping the bartender would think it was her that was paying the tab and leaving a big tip. “But I have a question.”