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That was a bullshit answer if I’d ever heard one. “How the fuck wouldn’t I notice?”
She didn’t bother to stop or turn her head to look at me. “You didn’t until well after the fact.”
Ok, so the lady had a point.
“Look.” She finally stopped in the living room, turning toward me. “I was curious and I’d heard about you and I just wanted the damn thing taken care of. That’s all. I’m not going to cling. I’m not going to beg you for tomorrow night. In fact, you probably won’t ever see me again.” She smiled slightly, but it looked menacing almost. “Thank you for tonight, Conor,” she said again. “I’ll see myself out.”
She turned again and moved to the other side of the room in record time. I tried telling myself I didn’t care, she was just another chick, another hole on another night.
But when she reached the door and looked over her shoulder at me briefly before pulling the door open and stepping out, I was hit in the gut again with her familiarity.
But I didn’t know her.
Shit, she was just another woman I took to bed, who I didn’t get her name. Names didn’t matter.
But for whatever reason, I had a feeling her name mattered. A feeling that her being my first, and fuck she’d better be my only, virgin, mattered.
I shook my head.
I was too tired for this shit.
Tomorrow night I’d take two girls. That would take my mind off Curly for sure.
