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“Okay. You’ve got a smile?—”
Rachel rolls her eyes.
“—I want to wake up and see when I’m between your legs tomorrow. Please tell me how to make it happen, gorgeous.”
Polite lewdness must turn her on for Rachel cackles and bats his arm.
“I’m the shy one,” Judd says, turning to me with his bright blue eyes. “Hope that’s okay.”
“Komal doesn’t mind you beating around her bush,” says Rachel, answering for me. "You look like you’ve got good technique for it.”
Oh. Wow.
Everyone, including me, laughs in that sudden shocked way. How Rachel enchants with her tone is incredible. Easy, breezy warmth she’s got.
We split into pairs and start a game of pool. Our bodies need activity while we flirt. Making out in messy corners is for later, I suspect. Plus more.
Drink Downstairs. Cum Upstairs.
That would be a great marketing slogan for this hostel bar.
My brain works through other possibilities (something likeThis Little Known Spot if You Hate Commuting After Datesor, more simply,Bar N’ Bed) before I mentally chastise myself.
Don’t overthink tonight!
My gaze settles on my surroundings. Billiards will start soon, if we’re actually going to play, but for right now we’re basically feeling up equipment while chatting. Rachel has Tom beside her. I get Judd. Who knows why it split that way? Because pheromones made it so? Or Rachel playfully snarked at Tom first, so that was the deciding factor? First one to neg the banker gets the banker?
Looking at Rachel and Tom, their bodies are magnets turning on polarity. Her irises have gone liquid with general desire… for it has to be general, right? She can’t know Tom enough to want to fuckspecificallyTom. She has to be wanting the general experience of someonelikeTom. Just like I should sink into the fantasy of someonelikeJudd.
For this is a night that slips by with no pondering or hemming or hawing. You can’t wonder about other people. About another person. All I should see is Judd as his hand guides my shoulder, and I vaguely line up the cue.
There are no dark eyes sticking to me like burnt metal. I can’t think about the other man watching me. The one who is nursing a drink he isn’t really drinking at the bar. I'd told Huan this would be sordid, didn't I? My skin prickles and there is a slide of heat down my back when I remember what he overheard me say about him in Leadenhall Market. And what must he think of me now as he watches me from across the room? Does he make a note of Judd hugging me? Does he inspect the foreign hand on my hip?
Putting my cue down, I angle and accept the beer Judd offers, tipping fizz down my throat in an appreciative hum. It will help. For remember, this is my sticky night in a lusty bar.
Looking at Judd and no other direction, I ask, “Why do your friends come drink at this bar?”
“We, um, like to meet people from around the world. Not just locals.”
He’s blushing. It’s cute.
“What do you do for work, Judd?”
“Real-estate agent. You?”
“Me?”
My mind staggers into a wall I didn’t foresee. Pollywood starlet-to-be. He can’t know my real identity because then everything changes. I’d have to change, shrink, and defend myself.
“Yeah, you. What kind of work do you do, Komal?”
“W-writer. I write. Yep.”
“Cool. I’ve met a few writers, and they always seem uncertain or annoyed whenever I ask them about their work.”
“Right,” I say, wishing for more beer. “Well, I promise I won’t be annoyed or uncertain.”
“Risky guarantee,” he says, flattening his brown hair with the back of his palm. “Especially when you find out how bad I am at pool. Haven’t gotten around to updating my contact lens prescription, and well, that’s more of a lie. I simply do poorly at coordination.”
