Nothing’s changed. Derek’s still just as obsessed with the diner we always hit for breakfast when I’m in town. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say he’s obsessed with the owner. A cute little thing who never gives him the time of day.
“I’m getting a beer. You want one?” I ask by way of an apology for giving him a hard time. Getting a nod, I make my way to the bar. Of course, being the city, it takes way too long to flag down a bartender. This is when I miss Hastings, the local bar in Dogwood Cove. Sure, it doesn’t have the dance floor teeming with hot babes ready for a night of anonymous sex, but it does have good beer and good food, and you don’t have to wait forever to order a drink.
Finally, two beers in hand, I return to Derek and hand over his drink. We stand there, enjoying our beers before a flash of blonde hair catches my attention. It’s not Tori, but the blonde hair is enough to get some sort of reaction out of me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, man.”
Derek gets my drift instantly, taking my beer with a chuckle. “Go get ’em, Loverboy.”
I make my way over to the woman who caught my eye. She’s pretty enough, and definitely dressed to kill in a skintight red dress that barely covers a juicy ass. And I can tell by the looks she and her friends are tossing out to various guys, she’s looking for some fun.
I wait until she catches my eye, then I unleash the smirk. There it is — her eyes widen and a sultry smile covers her face. Her moves get even more sensual, and it’s like she’s set off a fucking tractor beam, intending to pull me in.
My hand slides around her waist, high enough to be respectful, just in case I’ve read things wrong, but let’s face it, Ineverread things wrong. “Hey, beautiful.”
Her arms come up around my neck. “Hi.”
We start to move, and for a short while I let myself sink into the allure of the moment. I’m dancing with another beautiful woman, and this one might just hold my attention long enough to make it worthwhile. I don’t want to think about why the blonde hair is making a difference.
Next thing I know, her hands are running down my chest and she’s grabbing onto my belt, pulling my pelvis in to meet hers. “You’re hot,” she titters, and my mouth curves into an automatic grin.
“Thanks, babe.”
She pouts, and that’s the first sign this chick might not be what I’m looking for. “Don’t you think I’m hot?” Her hand drops and covers my junk. “We’re just two hot people looking for a good time.”
Seriously? Is she for real?That’s got to be the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard — and used — some doozies. She starts to lead me off the dance floor, making it crystal clear she wants more.
But evenIhave standards, and hooking up in the bathroom of a nightclub is below them, even for me. I know I could change the plan; I could convince her to come back to my hotel room with zero effort. And I should be into this, but I’m starting to realize just hownot into thisI am.
I don’t even know her fucking name, and while she might be blonde, she’s not therightblonde. She doesn’t fit next to my body like she was made to be there, and she definitely doesn’t set my blood on fire like I want her to.
She’s not Tori.And given how annoyed I am that she pretended we’d never met, I fucking hate that my goddamn head won’t stop throwing the memories of our night together at me like mini grenades.
I drop my hands from her waist as I lean down to say in her ear, “Listen, babe, I’m sorry to change it up, but this isn’t gonna happen.” I know I’m an asshole. The worst kind to string a girl along — even a little — and then drop her like this. I feel like a fucking chump as I disentangle myself from her clutches and step back. I’m at the edge of the dance floor and stuff my hands into my pockets as I hope she doesn’t freak.
She freaks.
Her jaw drops open. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Her voice is so shrill, even over the pounding beat of the music, it makes me cringe. But I simply nod.
“You’re seriously turningmedown?” Her hands are on her hips, her outrage and disbelief clear. And all I can do is fucking nodagain.
“Sorry. I know it sounds shitty; itisshitty. But yeah. I just…” I shrug because what the fuck am I meant to say? I’m sure as shit not gonna admit to a stranger that I don’t want her because I can’t stop thinking about a single mom who rocked my world once, and now she won’t even admit to knowing my name.
She storms off, back to the dance floor, probably straight to her friends to bash me. I make a quick exit out the front and call an Uber, any plans of finding a hookup for the night completely abandoned.
Once I’m finally back in my hotel room, I strip, letting my clothes fall as I beeline for the bathroom and turn the shower on. Stepping under the steaming hot water, I get to work scrubbing every inch of my body, as if soap and water can clean away how fucked up I feel inside.
Because hooking up with that girl would’ve been a mistake. One I never used to hesitate to make. Random sex with a woman? I’m there. Can’t remember her name? Oh well. But now, it seems a certain blonde has invaded my head and turned me against myself. And I don’t fucking know what to do about it.
Goddamn it, if that woman being in the same town as me is gonna ruin my game and make it impossible for me to have sex with anyone else, I’m gonna have to move.
“Okay, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re never this quiet.”
I glance over my shoulder at my twin, not breaking my stride. I got back from Vancouver yesterday and let Beckett convince me to go for a hike today, but I didn’t realize “hike” was synonymous with “inquisition.”
“Whatever do you mean, twinski? Can’t a guy just enjoy the beautiful scenery and the dulcet tones of his brother’s heavy breathing, signifying just how out of shape he is now that he’s got the ole ball and chain?”
Must. Deflect. The downside of having a twin is having someone who legit knows you better than yourself most days. And Beckett and I, despite being opposites in so many ways, are very much like that.
