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The guy across the bar was actually pretty nice looking. He was wearing that standard blue business shirt, collar open, his tie probably ditched in whatever fleet car he drove. A company car, she was willing to bet. He had an eight-dollar haircut. That she was sure of. She could see the razor tracks from twenty feet away, but that wasn’tsobad.
He probably sold something. Insurance maybe.
So maybe she could get a little ego salve and a good rate on a policy for her motorcycle all in one night. Win win.
She stood up and started walking toward him before she could overthink it. Before she could think at all.
A wall of cheap body-spray scent greeted her when she got within five feet of him. She nearly gagged. They needed serving-sizes on that crap. She’d banned it in her offices. The young male interns completely believed the commercials that promised random ménages with strangers and seemed to bathe in the stuff before work. It gave her a headache.
It was giving her a headache now.
That didn’t bode well for the flirting.
She really would like it if she could manage to stun a guy with her witty repartee and stunning beauty. If she could get a guy to ask her to come back to his place. Partly because she was trying to figure out how successful her app was, and partly because she really needed the boost to her self-esteem.
The loss of Jason the Ass, and the fact that he’d been sleeping with another woman, had dented her confidence. A little male interest would go a long way in fixing that. Not all the way to the bedroom, mind you.
She couldn’t even imagine that being worth it. In her memory, sex had never been so hot, in spite of rumors to the contrary.
It had been a long time for her. Even longer since sex had thrilled her in any capacity.
Jason had been the cardboard in bed. Stiff. Dull.Boring.
And yes, she was probably a little bit boring in bed, too. But she hadn’t been inspired. Evie was nothing if not creative in many other aspects of her life, but she needed a spark ofsomething. Once upon a time, the novelty of Jason being interested in her at all had been enough. She was over that now. Having a man just to have him didn’t do anything for her.
Her sexual resume was so grim.
Until proven otherwise, Evie was convinced toe-curling orgasms were a myth. She was open to being convinced otherwise. She’d love to know if they were real, in fact. If the panting and sweating and things that her friends always talked about, that the magazines said were possible, were in fact possible.
Her entire sexual career boiled down to one man who seemed to think foreplay was a golf term.
Nintendo golf. Not even real golf.
It was partly her fault. Because she’d been seventeen and a virgin the first time she’d been with him, and she’d basically just kept being with him because she hadn’t known what else to do. They’d followed each other through life. Through college and their first apartment. Their first jobs. And then her quitting her job to develop apps. And her ensuing success.
Success, which had,apparently,made him feel neutered and had forced him to seek greener pastures. And by greener pastures, she meant another woman’s vagina.
Bastard.
The thing that sucked,reallysucked, was that when she’d come home from her office to find him with his head between another woman’s legs she’d been pissed about two things.
The first being that he’d said he didn’t like that. Always. He’d tried it on her once, and said he hated it. And he’d never done it again. So, there he was after ten years with her, doing it for another woman with an enthusiasm she’d never seen from him before.
Yeah, that had pissed her off.
The second thing was that she wasn’t brokenhearted.
The realization thatshedidn’t lovehimanymore either was a hard one to swallow. Because in some ways, even though she was angry, she just felt free.
Free to move his things out. Free to tell him to leave. To tell him to enjoy life without his meal ticket. Free to put on music he hated and dance in her panties and go to bars to pick up men who got her much more excited than Freaking Jason.
It had made her angry because it was ten years of her life, poured out on a guy she couldn’t even cry over.
Her most righteous and frightening anger was at herself. Six months she’d had it stewing on the back burner. She hadn’t wanted to date. She’d barely wanted to look a guy in the eye because it just made her a little stabby.
Her poor interns.
Then she’d gotten the offer to do this app forFlirt.And that had plunged her into research on dating, hookups and sex. Which was why she had sex, and toe curling, on the brain when she’d successfully ignored the concept for quite a few months.
