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The knot in my stomach tightened. The truth was, I’d wanted it last night. Wanted everything the flyer had offered.
And I’d wanted it badly.
It had been almost a year since I’d actually had sex; ten months, to be precise. And if not for a moment of weakness when Rob had stopped by to grab some of his stuff, it would’ve actually been more like a year and a half.
Nothing wrong with wanting it, I reminded myself silently. Hell, it’s only natural.
I’d jumped him after a single glass of wine, right on the couch he was taking with him the next week. I was fine with that. Both the sex and the loss of the couch.
What I wasn’t fine with however, was the guilt that came afterward.
Besides, sex with my ex wasn’t exactly fulfilling either. It was only marginally better than the increasingly lackluster sex we’d had during our marriage, only this time with the forbidden element of doing something ‘wrong’ thrown in.
And now here I was, almost a year later… without even so much as a fuckbuddy or friend with benefits I could call to help me out. I was practically celibate. At severe risk of growing my cherry back.
Hell, I’d even tried one of those swipe-if-you-like dating apps everyone raved so much about. I’d had five meet-ups with four different guys, and none of them had gone past first base. And not for a lack of trying on my part, either.
“Guys these days don’t always make the first move,” Bella had told me. “Sometimes you’ve got to do it yourself.”
Yeah, no thanks.
It was a little crazy to me, that in just a decade things had somehow gotten so backwards. That the semi-cute guy who’d taken me out twice had only kissed me after I’d kissed him first. And even then, he’d seemed extremely deer-in-headlights about it.
Call me traditional, but I liked a guy with a little more decisiveness. A guy who made the moves. A guy who could take my hand and take charge. Someone who—
My phone buzzed against my thigh, and I stopped in my tracks. It was barely six o’clock.
Maybe it’s them.
A shockwave of fear rippled through me. My stomach flip-flopped.
Maybe they’re calling to cancel plans…
I was gripped by a whole host of conflicting emotions. Dread laced with excitement. Overwhelming relief… followed by grave disappointment.
Slowly I pulled the phone from my pocket. My whole body relaxed as I saw the name on the screen… and swiped to answer it with a big, broad grin.
Four
LAUREN
“What’s up you sexy bitch?”
I laughed as my friend greeted me with our usual exchange. I hadn’t even said hello yet.
“Getting along okay?” Bella asked. “Is Vegas still standing?”
“Fortunately yes,” I said, glancing around. The strip loomed on both sides of me, lighting up more with each passing minute. “Looks intact so far.”
“Damn, I figured you’d have brought some of the walls down by now,” laughed Bella. “What, with you being on your own and everything. No more lame duck, dead weight bullshit like the others were pulling on us.”
I smiled as I continued walking, the warmth of the waning sun on my back. I missed her already.
“Now at least you’re free,” she went on. “You can cut loose for the last few days of the trip, without anyone stopping you. Do whatever the hell you want.”
The phrase was definitely appealing. Especially considering the current circumstances.
“Yeah…” I answered finally. “But without you, though.”
