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Lots and lots of money.
And I was not, was absolutely not even the least bit tempted to drag myself away from my impending ice cream and cheap wine weepathon to strut myself down the street and go searching for Niro and his sexy voice and sexier face and see about those finger fucking skills he bragged about.
I needed to get laid, damnit.
How long had it been?
God, at least ten months. Or was it longer? I had long since started gauging everything in my life by what minor or major catastrophe it happened near. Sex, well, I think that was while I was flying high on an exciting upcoming new apartment buzz so I had finally gone to bed with a guy I had been dating for about six weeks. The next morning I got the call saying I would not be getting the apartment. Or the one I found after that. Or the one after that.
Ten months.
It felt like years.
I was pretty sure I was prematurely going gray over all the stress that the past almost-year had kept me under. And if what Ethan said was true, there was no freaking end in sight.
Maybe some sex would give me at least some momentary relief from the shitstorm I called a life.
"Depends on what you're after," a female voice said from my side, making me realize I had been watching the door Niro departed like some kind of lovesick freak. I turned to find the girl from the counter, Jazzy her name tag said, standing beside the table Niro had been sitting at, wiping the surface where he must have spilled some of his coffee.
"I'm sorry?" I asked, brows drawing together as she moved to sit in the chair he had vacated, turning fully toward me, bending so her elbows were on her thighs, like we were the oldest of friends instead of complete strangers.
"I see the gears turning about him," she said, waving toward the door. "I know him a bit and I have to say that when it comes to him, it depends on what you're after. You want toe-curling, voice box-breaking, sheet-tearing sex that makes you reevaluate your ideas on God and the afterlife because you're goddamn sure nothing could ever be anywhere near as amazing as him fucking you, then go for it. But if there is even a teensy part of you that thinks you're only a relationship kind of woman and wonder if maybe he's a relationship kind of man, then stay far, far away from him. Anyway, that's my two cents. We'd really appreciate a Yelp review if you have two minutes."
And with that, she was gone.
I felt the smile spread, immediately deciding that once I had money for things like to-go coffee and a tip to go along with it, that I was totally going to start spending more time at She's Bean Around. As it was, I didn't, so I grabbed my phone, three generations old and cracked so bad that it was hard to type on it, and brought up Yelp and wrote them a quick review before handing them the twenty Ethan had left, grabbing my bag, and heading outside.
I truly didn't know my intentions until I turned in a direction and made up my mind.
Well, not really made it up per se. I actually changed my mind and turned back five times before I saw myself closing in on the gates.
But as soon as I was in front of them, I made the choice. Because, really, did I want this night to be remembered solely as the night Ethan effectively crushed what little was left of my dreams? Or did I maybe want it to be the night I did something completely uncharacteristic like hookup with the sexy, dangerous, bad news Niro and let him curl my toes?
The answer to that was obvious to anyone with a sex drive.
Also, I was due for a good toe-curl.
Because while I had been laid ten months before, he hadn't exactly, ah... rung the bell. He fucked like a bunny rabbit who didn't understand foreplay, unless he counted sticking a finger in to see if I was ready enough, and then came after ten strokes.
And vibrators, while a godsend, didn't anywhere near stack up to the real thing.
"Marry me." I jerked backward, not realizing I had been standing there silently like a weirdo, completely unaware of a man walking up toward me. He was tall and, like Niro, a lean type of strong. But unlike Niro, he was all light- blond hair, blond beard, blue eyes. He had a languid, lazy type of gait as he moved toward me, and the most welcoming smile I think I had ever seen on a man.
"I'm sorry?"
"You're turning me down?" he asked, putting a hand to his heart. "I'm crushed. You would have made a lovely Mrs. Harris, don't you think, Eddy, man?"
