“Or he’s about to go to prison because he hacks women into tiny bits with a machete before he eats them. Either way, I’m. Not. Interested.”
“God,” Margot snorts, twirling her chestnut hair as she leans back in her chair and levels me with an unimpressed gaze. “Dramatic much? He wouldn’t be out on bail if that were the case. But seriously, that’s like crazy psycho shit, and that guy does not say crazy psycho. He says crave-worthy and yummy and ‘I hand out orgasms like candy on Halloween.’”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Aria says with a knowing smile and a wink.
She swivels her head to check him out again and licks her lips reflexively. I haven’t bothered to peek yet because my back is to him and I hate that I’m curious. All three ladies are eyeing him with unfettered appreciation and obvious lust. Their tastes in men differ tremendously, which indicates this guy probably is hot. I shouldn’t be tempted. I really shouldn’t be. I’m asking for a world of trouble or hurt or legal fees. So why am I finding the idea of a one-nighter with a total stranger growing on me?
I’ve never been that girl before. But maybe they’re right? Maybe a one-nighter with a random guy is just the ticket to wipe out my past of bad choices in men and make a fresh start? I don’t even know if that makes sense since a one-nighter is the antithesis of a smart choice. But my libido is taking over for my brain and now I’m starting to rationalize, possibly even encourage. I need to stop this now.
“He’s gay. Hot men are always gay. Or assholes. Or criminals. Or cheaters. Or just generally suck at life.”
“You’ve had some bad luck, is all. Look at Oliver. He’s good-looking, sweet, loving, and not an asshole. Or a criminal. And he likes you. You could date him.”
Reaching over, I steal Rina’s cocktail. She doesn’t stop me or even seem to register the action. I stare at her with narrowed eyes over the rim of her glass as I slurp down about half of it in one gulp. “I’m not dating your brother, Rina. That’s weird and begging for drama. You and I are best friends.”
She sighs and then I sigh because I’m being a bitch and I don’t mean to be. I like her brother. He is all of those things she just mentioned, minus the liking me part. But if things went bad between us, which they inherently would, it would cost me one of my most important friendships. And that’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Plus, unbeknownst to Rina, Oliver is one of the biggest players in the greater Boston area.
“I’m just saying not all men are bad,” Rina continues, and I shake my head. “We’ll buy your drinks for a month if you go talk to this guy,” she offers hastily, trying to close the deal.
Margot glances over at her with furrowed eyebrows, a bit surprised by that declaration, but she quickly comes around with an indifferent shrug. Aria smiles, liking that idea. Then again, money is not Aria’s problem. “Most definitely,” she agrees. “Go. Let a stranger touch your lady parts. You’re waxed and shaved and looking hot. Let someone take advantage of that.”
“And if he shoots me down?”
“You don’t have to sleep with him,” Rina reminds me. “Or even give him your real name. In fact, tell him nothing real about yourself. It could be like a sexual experiment.” I shake my head in exasperation. “We won’t bother you about it again,” she promises solemnly. “But he won’t shoot you down. You look movie star hot tonight.”
I can only roll my eyes at that. While I appreciate the sentiment from my loving and supportive friends, being shot down by a total stranger when I’m already feeling emotionally strung out might just do me in. Even if I have no interest in him. But free drinks . . .
Twisting around in my chair, I stare across the crowded bar, probing for a few seconds until I spot the man in the corner. Holy Christmas in Florida, he is hot. There is no mistaking that. His hair is light blond, short along the sides and just a bit longer on top. Just long enough that you could grab it and hold on tight while he kisses you. His profile speaks to his straight nose and strong, chiseled, cleanly shaven jaw. I must admit,