Page 105 of Kiss Slay Replay

Maybe I am insane, just totally delusional. Or hopeful. Or horny. Or desperate. All of the above. Because I really don’t care about the results—chances are they’ll be temporary anyway. All I care about is that everything in me is begging to surrender to this man with nothing to offer me but a cheap thrill. All I want is to live in the moment, free of worrying about what’s to come, and whether it’ll hurt.

“All right,” I say, and he takes me by the hand. We change direction. He walks me up past the reception hall. “Where are we going?”

“Good question,” he says. “Are you staying here?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I opted for the hotel,” he says. “Which one is your cabin?”

“Presumptuous.”

“You’re the presumptuous one,” he says. “I just want to sit on a porch swing and drink whiskey with you.”

“It’s that one. The third.”

We get to the cabin and climb the steps, sit on the swing, sip our whiskeys. There’s a breeze, and it runs its fingers through my hair, across the back of my neck. Gives me chills. The scent of flowers is strong as ever. The sun is just starting to set.

I’m about to say something, to break the silence, when Danny puts his hand on my thigh.

—

When it happens this time, it’s up against the wall in the living room. It’s better than the first. Fast and dirty fun. I pull up my underwear, and he attempts to buckle his belt. He wears a grin like I’ve never seen.

“That was something,” he says. His cheeks are flushed.

I sense an opportunity.

I clear my throat. “Danny, I…I think we’re on the same page, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m good for a good time, but I’m not good for anything long-term. I’m not looking for anything serious right now. Just want to be up-front. Is that cool?”

“Ah,” he says, nodding and rubbing his jaw. “Okay, okay. Yeah. Me, either. I’m not looking for anything serious, either.”

He’s flustered. I beat him to the punch.

“Great,” I say, smoothing my dress. “We should get back.”

I open the door to the cabin, look over my shoulder to see him standing there, still a little dazed. “You ready?”

“Think so.” He trips on his way out the door. “Whoa.”

I pat him on the back, and he puts his arm around me as we head down the porch steps, return to the path.

“Do we have to go?” he asks. “Because we could turn around and do that again.”

“If you want to do that again you’ll have to take me to dinner first. Sushi. In Tokyo.”

He laughs. “Deal. I love Tokyo.”

We pass the reception hall and round the corner. The cocktail hour is still going on, everyone happy and relaxed and chatting, drinking and eating hors d’oeuvres. If something’s going to happen tonight, it isn’t happening just yet.

I don’t think.

Dread pulls the rug out from under me, and suddenly I’m face down in it, so anxious I can barely breathe.

I watch the lake for strange ripples in the water. An aquatic monster could emerge, a Loch Ness–type serpent with a mouth full of sharp teeth. Or maybe an enormous alligator like in that one movie. Or a Gill-man. A whole army of Gill-men.

But the surface of the lake is calm and still, reflecting the vibrant hues of the sunset.

Stars peer out from the blooming dark, glittering faintly. It was aliens last time. What other terrors could come from above? I’m afraid the second I stop looking at the sky will be the second a giant asteroid appears, plummeting straight toward us. Or a mushroom cloud in the distance, a nuclear bomb dropped on Manhattan, inspiring retaliation that will lead to the total destruction of the planet.