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“Fine,” I said, nodding. “But just one dance and one drink.” Those were my famous last words.
Chapter 2
“I’m notthat sort of girl. Really, I’m not.” I giggled as I stumbled into Travis’s deluxe apartment. My eyes widened as I looked around. “Wow, this is absolutely fantastic.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said with a conceited look on his face.
“You’re really, really annoying,” I said.
“I am?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re so full of yourself. If you weren’t so handsome…”
“What? You wouldn’t be here?” he said with a wide grin.
“No, I wouldn’t.” I walked into the living room without waiting for him to show me around. I stepped toward the humongous white leather sectional in the corner of the room. I sat down on it and laid back. “Oh my gosh, this feels absolutely amazing.” He came and stood next to me.
“I’m not going to say that I know it does because I don’t want you to think I’m even more conceited than you already do.”
“Good.” Jumping up, I walked toward the windows and looked out at the panoramic view of New York City at night. “This is really beautiful.” I smiled. “A girl could get used to this.”
“Don’t get too used to it,” he said in a sarcastic tone, and I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t worry, Travis. I’m not expecting to spend every night here.”
“Good,” he said. I ignored the feeling of annoyance that ran through me because I didn’t want to be that girl. Just because we had a fun night and would probably have an even more fun night, it wasn’t like we promised each other forever. I knew that, and I didn’t want him to think I was crazy. I didn’t want him to think I was some country girl who thought one night of sex meant we would get married and have ten billion babies.
I turned to him. “I’m hungry. Do you have any food?” He stared at me for a few seconds and shook his head.
“I can see if Consuela…”
I held my hand up. “Consuela?” I raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t tell me you have a housekeeper.”
“I do,” he said, nodding. “Is that a problem?”
“No, but that’s just so—”
“So what?” he said, interrupting me.
“I don’t know. You know, it’s just…”
“What? She makes amazing food, and I like to eat, and I’m a busy man. If you didn’t know, I run one of the most successful hedge funds in the city.” He grins. “I don’t have time to make amazing Latin dishes like Consuela does.” My stomach growled.
“So what has she made?”
“I don’t know. We can check in the kitchen?”
“Okay,” I said. He started laughing.
“Well, I thought you just came here to get into my bed, but you’re really here to get into my fridge.”
“Oh yeah. That’s why I’m here.” I laughed. “I totally came back to your place after a night of drinking and partying so I could see what you have in your fridge.”
“I bet I have better food than you do.”
“I bet you do. I bet your grocery store budget is more than fifty dollars for the week.”
“Fifty dollars?” He raised an eyebrow. “Whoa.”
