home except for different brands here and there. I grab pizza sauce, cheese, a couple of bagels, and my stomach rumbles. If Nina’s anything like me, she ate a few pretzels on the flight and one bite of that disgusting thing posing as chicken. She’s probably hungry by now. I buy enough for both of us and hurry back to the hostel, cursing my leg the whole way.
It’s dark by the time I get back. A chorus of laughter and a strange, high-pitched hyena sound drift down the hall.
I cross through the lounge into the kitchen to find three girls and a couple of guys on either side of a wooden table. The hyena cackle comes from one of the guys, an Italian-looking dude with dark hair and olive skin, who’s thumping his fist on the table. A bottle of tequila anchors the center of the group, and copies of the same guidebook as mine are strewn about. Coffeehouse tunes strum from a radio in the corner.
“I can’t believe this is the first I’m hearing of this,” the hyena guy says in a British accent. “That’s a legendary shag, mate.”
The blond guy beside him pretends to shine his knuckles on his shirt. “What can I say? This smile gets ’em every time.”
As I pass the table to dump my stuff beside the stove, one of the girls calls a loud “Hey,” followed by a string of giggles.
I turn, cross my arms, and rest my hip against the orange countertop. The tan girl in the middle fiddles with the blond braid over her shoulder and gives me a flirty smile. Her head is inclined toward a dark-haired girl to her right who’s whispering in her ear. On her other side is another blonde. This one’s long hair is dyed pink at the ends like the celebrities in those stupid magazines.
The girl in the center tilts forward, the tops of her breasts spilling over her neckline. “I’m Reese,” she says as she lifts her chin.
With her big tits, slim waist, and pouty lips, Reese looks the part of a cheerleader. She could be mine in a heartbeat. I’d splay her naked over my mattress and claim her in the darkness where she can’t see my legs. Her gaze dances over my body, measuring, taking stock, but it’s nothing like the way Nina’s lips parted as she undressed me with her eyes.
I nod to the table. “I’m Sam. Drinking game?” I flick my head to the newly filled shot glasses.
“You assume correct, mate,” says the dark hyena guy. “I’m Bruno, and Never Have I Ever is a smashing way to get acquainted.” He wiggles his eyebrows at the girls before calling to me, “Fancy joining us?”
Could be fun. An easy to way to work this Reese chick, or Nina if she shows up. “Sure, I’ll just make something to eat first.”
Bruno tugs Reese’s braid and winks at her, while the girls at her sides vie for her attention.
I flip around, turn on the oven, and build the staple meal that got me through two years of college: tray, bagel, sauce, cheese, and blister the shit out of it until it smells awesome.
I flinch at the sound of Bruno’s mad cackle. The words cherry and condom explode from his mouth between each bout of hysteria. “Sam, you’ve got to get over here. You’re missing the best bits.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I stack a couple of plates—orange, of course—rip off some paper towels, and load up the pizza bagels—enough for Nina and me, if she shows up. When I turn, I freeze.
Those eyes.
Standing in the doorway, Nina sucks on her bottom lip, her eyelids heavy as she soaks me in. It makes me feel like a legend. Like I’m whole again. In a simple tee and jeans—and probably a pair of underwear—this chick oozes sex. Her breasts strain against the thin white cotton of her shirt. Not as big as Reese’s, but perky as hell. I almost drop the goddamn plates.
Maybe it’s not having been touched by a girl for more than a year now, but I want to own her. No. Not own her. I want to fuck her. I want it raw and fun with no strings attached. Travel sex, pure and simple. Once and done. I can’t have a repeat of Lacey and Florida. What’s left of my ego wouldn’t recover. I’m just not sure that’s Nina’s style. All shy and cute at the baggage claim, she doesn’t seem the type. Not like