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“Have you ever built something up inside your head, like you’ve hyped it up so much you’re just waiting for it to explode with amazingness? But instead, all you get is a party popper filled with confetti that doesn’t unravel.”
“I’ve read a few books like that…” She shrugs one shoulder.
“It was like that. We kissed and I was expecting to be engulfed in a burning pit of heat and passion, but instead it was like a dud bottle rocket. We lit the wick, but never shot off.”
“Oh shit. Like he couldn’t…” She holds her pointer finger down then straight, repeating the motion. “That…sucks. With all the flirting, I was expecting something.”
“We didn’t even get to that! All we did was kiss, but it was so…disappointing. Maybe we are just better off as friends.”
“So that’s one guy. Who’s the second?”
Heat creeps up my neck reminiscing about him and our kiss. “So, Trey left The Blue Anchor—”
“This all happened at The Blue Anchor?”
“It was Trey’s idea. He figured it would be one place where no one would recognize us. Anyway, after Trey left, I sat at the bar to have a drink and figure out what the hell had just happened. I had convinced myself I was broken. There is no reasonable explanation why I wouldn’t have felt anything when I kissed Trey. Next to me, there was a guy. He was attractive in a rough-around-the-edges kind of way, so I told him to kiss me.”
She perks up as she leans in. “And what happened?”
I flop backward, my back hitting the chair. “It was a kiss that trumps all kisses. The instant our lips touched, everything inside me exploded with a fury of heat and passion. A burning hot desire for this stranger at the bar.”
“What happened next?” Parisa’s phone buzzes in her bag and she picks it up. “Hold that thought.” She steps away from the desk to take the phone call. A few seconds later, she turns toward me. “Emergency meeting upstairs. Call the girls. Porter’s tonight. I need to know what happened next.” She wiggles her fingers in a wave and then she’s briskly walking toward the bank of elevators.
Once again, I’m left dreaming about the kiss with the mystery guy.
Later that evening Parisa, Charlie, Hollyn, Tatum, and I are all gathered around our usual table at Porter’s Ale House. It’s our home away from home, and our general meeting spot for girls nights. Plus Jake, the owner, gives us free drinks and you never turn down a free drink. I give the girls the same rundown I gave Parisa earlier. Everything that happened with Trey and when I get to the point of the story about locking lips with the sexy bad boy, my thighs clench together.
“It was a feeling I’ve never felt before. I was a half a second away from telling him to come home with me, but then he got a message and had to leave.” I pout.
“Did you get his number?” Charlie asks.
My teeth sink into my lower lip as I shake my head.
“You at least got his name, right?” Hollyn asks.
I flinch slightly and shake my head again.
Parisa bends her neck forward as her voice goes quiet. “Wait, so you know what the inside of his mouth feels like, but you don’t know his name?”
I groan. “I know. It’s so unlike me. We were in the throes of this amazing kiss. I wasn’t thinking straight. My focus was on the way his lips moved against mine. The way his hands clung to my waist. The slight bite to his grip. Not painful, but in an ‘I want you right now’ kind of way.”
“Oh yes. Like he might leave little fingerprint bruises on you. Bennett’s done that a few times. It’s hot.” Charlie nods.
“Yes. Exactly that. Just without Bennett.” I smirk. “But then his buzzing phone interrupted our make-out session. From there he left, and I was left wanton.” My gaze drops to my half empty margarita in front of me.
“I’m still in disbelief that you let him go. Not like you.” Tatum reaches for her glass and takes a sip.
“I know. I blame it on the lust induced haze I was in. No way could I think straight after what he did. But I don’t know what to do now. Replaying our kiss while using my best vibrator only lasts for so long before I forget what it was actually like,” I whine. I’ve spent many nights, more times than I like to admit, with a vibrator. In fact, that reminds me I need to buy more batteries. While I do have a rechargeable vibrator, nothing is worse than chasing the big O and your vibrator dies. It's like having sex and the guy falls asleep mid stroke. Or stopping to charge leads to a lackluster climax. Or swapping vibes, which has you imagining you’re in your very own real life why choose romance with the different sizes, shapes, and textures. At least with batteries you swap them out relatively fast and keep going instead of trying to enjoy yourself with a corpse of a vibrator.
“Then we find him.” Charlie slams her fist on the table and our drinks rattle.
“How? Wander the streets asking everyone if they’ve seen a hot bad boy?” This idea has crossed my mind a time or two. I just never worked up to actually doing it.
“You could get a character sketch drawn and hang up a poster. Wanted. This hot and sexy bad boy is wanted for a night of passionate, animalistic sex.” Tatum throws her head back as if she’s the one being ravished right now. An eruption of laughter comes from our table.
“No!” Parisa throws up her hands, palms out. “I got it! We know he goes to The Blue Anchor. Maybe he’s a frequent customer?”
“Another stake out! But maybe this time without the bushes,” Charlie says.
