You know how youknow a guy doesn’t really care about you? When he doesn’t make the first move.
I should have knownfrom the start that Gabe was just a hookup. And maybe I did know that, backwhen I had three glasses of alcohol in my system. But now that I’m sober andit’s a new day, I feel awful. I’m not a hookup type of girl. I never have been.I used to go on several dates with a guy before I’d even allow myself to kiss him.
I use the littlebar of hotel soap to scrub my body clean, wishing I could suds up some acrossmy brain to clean it of my memories. I wash my hair and then when the bathroomis all steamy, I finally get out.
My first panelstarts in thirty minutes, but I’m in no rush to go back to the conventiontoday. I put on a pair of pajamas—the ones I had brought specifically for lastnight but didn’t get to use—and sit on the bed while I brush out my long hair.I watch TV and try not to think about how big of a loser I am. I think aboutcalling Livi, but my phone is dead, so I put it on the charger.
I should just stayin the safety of my hotel room longer. I can’t really go downstairs to theconvention until my phone is charged. I mean, Icould, but I don’t want to. That thing is my lifeline. At leastthat’s what I tell myself when I decide I’m not quite ready to go downstairsyet.
I take my time blowdrying my hair and brushing it out. I spend twice as long on my makeup, wantingto make myself look just right in case I run into him.
Then, my mind fillswith all these new thoughts. Instead of reliving my embarrassing hookup lastnight, I start thinking about what Gabe will do if he sees me again. Does heplan on it? Is he hoping to get lucky again tonight, or will he avoid me,choosing instead to find some other girl to bring back to his room? He probablywants a girl who won’t bail on sex at the last minute.
I don’t even knowhis personality. For all I know, he’s got a reputation for being a player backat home and I don’t know him well enough to know that. He could have agirlfriend. Hell, maybe he’s engaged, and he’s just weak because I kissed himfirst and he decided to cheat on her.
Those thoughtsreally terrify me. Cheating is the lowest thing you can do to your partner.I’ve seen the way it broke my cousin Mason when he got cheated on. It’s wrongand horrible and just a shitty thing to do. I’d hate to be the girl who madeGabe cheat on his girlfriend back at home.
Once my hair andmakeup are done, I look in the mirror, impressed with what I see. When I’mashamed of myself, I sure can clean up nice. I’m still waring pajamas though,and I can’t get the energy to put on one of my professional outfits. I’m notready to go back out there.
I turn on mycomputer and play online, but it doesn’t help me. When my phone is charged, Icheck for messages from Livi but I don’t have any. She’s probably at homethinking I’m having an amazing business trip. Yeah, right.
Instead of learningstuff, I’m sitting here wallowing in my own pathetic-ness. While I’m upset withmyself for having a meaningless one night stand, I’m actually more mad atmyself for something I don’t want to admit.
I really likedGabe.
It’s not just thathe was crazy hot, with muscles in all the right places, facial hair to die for,and sleek dark hair that felt great under my fingers. It was everything. Theeasy way I felt around him. The way he talked, and listened, and made me feellike I was the only person on the planet.
I think I wantedhim to be a fun hookup when we were drinking last night. But really, deep down,I know that’s not me. I wasn’t looking for a hook up. I was looking forsomething special. I want what Livi and Mason have.
And that’s what makesme the most ashamed. I let myself fall for this guy. Last night while we weretangled up in each other, I started picturing seeing him again, calling him upand hanging out on the weekends. Making the drive from wherever he lives to seehim more.
Relationship typestuff.
God, I’m an idiot.
I’m hungry, and Ihave to pee again, and I’ve already missed two panels by the time I realizewhat I need to do.
I stand up andgather my things, shoving them back into my suitcase. I put on a pair of jeansand keep my pink shirt on because it’s comfortable. As much as I want to stay,I know I can’t.
If I stay, I’lljust be looking for him, terrified of what he’ll do when he sees me again.Because life isn’t some fun romantic movie. Here in reality, the guy won’t showup outside of my hotel room door with flowers and a smile and some romanticline about how he can’t live without me.
In all actuality,he will just ignore me. Maybe I’ll get a smile from across the hallway. Maybehe’ll want to hook up again. But he won’t be romantic.
Real life guysaren’t romantic.
So I drag mysuitcase out the back door of the hotel, and walk around to the parking lot ina way that lets me bypass the convention. I have a taxi take me back to the airportand then I find one of those ticket kiosks to exchange my Sunday ticket for aSaturday one.
I’m supposed tostay another night. But instead, I think it’s time for me to go home.
Chapter 9
As soon as I startto wake up, I immediately know I’ve overslept. For one, I feel refreshed andhappy, and that’s not normal. Usually I’m groggily hitting snooze for the thirdtime, wishing I didn’t have to wake up so damn early in the morning. But as myeyes flutter open, the hotel room is bright and sunny and I remember that Iforgot to set my alarm last night.
Oh well, I’mperfectly fine with that. This convention is just for fun and it’s not like I’mlate meeting with a real client or anything. I stay still in bed, wondering ifI can hear Alexa breathing next to me. While I fell asleep snuggled against herhair, my arm around her stomach, we must have drifted apart during the nightbecause now I’m facing the wall instead of her.
Last night wasamazing. I know she felt the same way, too. At least I hope so. I hope thiswhole waking up next to each other thing won’t sully the night for her. I don’twant her to think I’m some man slut, because that’s so far from the truth. Whenyou meet someone you have such a great connection with, I don’t think sluttythoughts enter your mind. Clearly, Alexa and I had something special lastnight. It wasn’t just a hookup.
I lie still for awhile but I can’t hear her breathing. I don’t hear anything at all. Slowly, Iroll over, expecting to see her asleep. Or maybe she’s awake too and she’slooking at me waiting for me to wake up.
