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JENNA
I threw the shot back and then slammed the glass down on the counter, wincing at the bartender’s stern glare. Yeah, breaking a shot glass was not on the agenda tonight.
I was here to get laid.
To have a one-night stand to be more precise.
And I’d never needed liquid courage more in my life.
If my best friend, Sadie, was here, she’d tell me I didn’t need to go through with this, but she didn’t understand. She was blissfully in love. With my dad, of all people.
Gross.
No, she didn’t understand at all.
She didn’t understand what it was like to date a guy for four years—the same guy you gave your virginity to—thinking he was going to be the man you marry only for him to dump you and then start dating someone else a week later. She didn’t know what it was like to go years without sex like I now had. She didn’t question her bedroom skills like I did or ache forsomething, unable to articulate what that something actually was.
All I knew was that sex with Peter had been…okay, but I was pretty sure sex was supposed to be better than okay. It was supposed to be toe-curling, mind-blowing, life-altering. I wanted passion, adventure, a fucking orgasm from penetration for fuck’s sake.
I shook my empty shot glass at the bartender, and he came over and poured another with a slight arch of his dark brow. He was attractive, but I’m pretty sure he could tell I was a train wreck waiting to happen.
I was here to make bad choices, and I was worried it showed all over my face.
Not that I thought one-night stands were bad choices for everyone. I just didn’t think they were for me, but what the fuck did I know? I’d been with the same guy, the only guy, for four years, and then abstinent for another two while working on getting my veterinary degree—something else that hit my confidence hard.
Maybe I was about to discover that I was a one-night stand pro.
It was possible.
I tipped the glass back, swallowing down the liquid and relishing in the warm tingle as it went down my throat. With the effects of the alcohol starting to firm up my resolve, I spun on the barstool and perused my options.
Before I had a chance to look for more than a few seconds, my phone buzzed in my purse, which I could feel against my leg. I dug in my bag and glanced at the screen only to roll my eyes and toss it back in. It was my mother and I couldn’t deal with her right now. I was on a mission and didn’t need to hear about her new husband—who I’d never met because she’d been with him less than a month.
I doubted he’d last long enough that it would even be worth my time to meet him in the first place, but I’d reluctantly promised to have brunch with them tomorrow morning. That was all she was getting from me. My mother stole enough of my peace on a daily basis; I wasn’t about to let her ruin tonight when I’d finally gotten enough courage to pursue an anonymous hookup.
But my mom was tomorrow’s problem. Tonight I needed to stay focused on my mission. There was a group of polo-wearing dude bros throwing flirty glances at a group of blondes.
Hard pass.
They all looked too much like my classic boy-next-door ex. Sadie had said I needed someone different and she was right.
Different was exactly what I needed.
So, I focused on guys with dark hair, which was about the time prickles climbed the back of my neck—the good kind, the kind that held promise and possibility. I glanced to my right, and there at the end of the bar was a man who immediately made my stomach knot and my lady bits tingle.
His hair was cut close to his scalp—a military cut if I ever saw one. His dark eyes watched me with hunger as he held a glass of amber liquid close to his lips before the right side of his mouth tilted up ever so slightly in the cockiest smirk I had ever seen. He tossed what was left of his drink back in one gulp, then gently placed it down on the counter and stood from his stool. His walk was filled with confidence and swagger, and each step closer made my panties wetter.
This was a man who exuded sex, but it was the confidence which bordered on cocky that made excitement thrum in my belly.
This man.
He was exactly the kind of man who would excel at an anonymous hookup. I bet he was a pro at unattached sex.
I stayed in my seat, even though I had to actively fight my body’s desire to fidget under his penetrating gaze. His dark brown eyes slid down my body before sliding back up, and I held my breath. For a moment, my determination wavered.
What if he found me lacking?
What if I was cold and boring like Peter had implied?
