8. Your Casanova Skills Are Severely Lacking
EIGHT
YOUR CASANOVA SKILLS ARE SEVERELY LACKING
Lach
An annoyingly incessant beeping stirs me awake from the most amazing dream. I crossed paths with Kat again, and we spent all night exchanging orgasms. I crack an eyelid and groan. Reaching over, I blindly slap the nightstand until I find my phone. The easiest way to stop the noise is the snooze button. I twist my head on the pillow, and I’m greeted with a mop of blonde hair. Last night wasn’t a dream. Rising on my elbow, I peer over Kat’s shoulder. Her eyelashes fan over her cheeks, lips slightly parted as she softly snores. I glance over her body and around the bed. My shoulders shake from laughter. So much for sleeping in a ball. Instead, Kat is the one starfished across three-quarters of the bed.
My finger grazes her soft skin, brushing a strand of hair off her neck. Leaning down, I press a kiss to my favorite spot—the sunflower tattoo below her ear.
“Mmm.” She stirs awake. “Are we doing this again?” She stretches before rolling over to face me. I pull her into my arms and nuzzle the crook of her neck. “My legs are still sore from last night. I need to add more stretching to my daily routine.”
“If I’d planned this better, I could have helped you with a few stretches, but it’s that or me inside you. The choice is yours.”
“Why do you ask such dumb questions so early in the morning?” She presses her lips to mine. “I’ll take the stretches.”
“Is that so?” I roll us over so I’m on top. Her laughter fills the room as I blow raspberries on her neck. She flails her limbs beneath me as I tickle her ribs. Then realization hits me, and I freeze.
She notices and turns to face me. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have a condom.”
“Oh. Well, you can go find one again.” She winks.
“And have you disappear on me again?” I quickly press my lips to hers, and she gasps in surprise. “Not a chance. I’ll have to get creative.” I lift the edge of the comforter.
“Using a hotel trash bag isn’t creative.”
With the blanket still in the air, I freeze, tilting my head to make sure I heard her correctly. “This is from experience?”
“No. It just seemed like the most logical idea since we’re in a hotel room.”
I smile. “No trash bags, but equally enjoyable.” I flash her a wink before diving under the blankets and nestling between her legs. Since we didn’t bother putting our clothes back on last night, her pussy is ready and waiting for me. With my thumbs, I spread her open and run the flat of my tongue up her center. Her body jolts from the contact.
“Oh. Yeah. This is definitely better than the garbage bag.”
The last twenty-four hours have been… hell, there are no words to describe it. But it’s been interesting, to say the least. And certainly not what I was expecting. But it was one of the best nights and mornings of my entire life. So much so, we almost missed the shuttle back to the airport. We agreed to go our separate ways. She took her seat, and I took mine. After landing in Chicago, I went in one direction, and she went in another. I’m kind of sad it was one and done. But it’s better this way. No strings. Nothing messy. I can carry on with the rest of my life.
I hike my backpack over my shoulder as I push through the door of Porter’s for the night shift. It would have been in my best interest to sleep as much as I could this morning, but Kat was in my bed. I wasn’t going to waste a single second with her, so I’ll have to power through the night. I can sleep later.
There are a few customers scattered around the bar, but it’s a relatively quiet afternoon. I’ve been a bartender at Porter’s for the past eight years. My life had been hell, and the owner, Jake, took me in. He told me someone was there when he needed help, so it’s only fair for him to return the favor. I had nothing, so I wasn’t going to say no. Since then, we’ve become best friends. There’s no one else I’d rather have in my corner. In fact, everyone at Porter’s is tight. It’s our Porter’s family. We have each other’s back no matter what, and that’s all I need.
When I’m halfway across the bar, Nora, the most recent bartender to the Porter’s family, pops up from behind the bar. A wide, knowing grin spreads across her face.
Fuck. I know how my entire shift is going to go now. I give her a nod and quicken my steps to get to the back room.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Nora races toward me and grabs my bicep, twisting me around. “You’re telling me everything first.”
I feign innocence. “Tell you what?”
“Cut the shit.” She pops her hip, hand resting on her waist. “Tell me about the hot blonde you were sucking face with at Dessa and Garrett’s wedding reception.”
“What the hell?” I throw my hands up in the air. “That was like thirty-six hours ago. How do you know about that already?”
“Rylee texted me the night it happened.” She shrugs.
I shake my head. Nothing stays quiet around here. But it’s stupid for me to assume that. Rylee was outed with her tryst with Trey, and Dessa got busted with her rendezvous with Garrett. I guess it’s now my time. “Of course she did.”
“She also said Trey wanted me to mention that you were barely even gone for five minutes.” She presses her lips together. Her gaze drifts down my chest and stops at my crotch before it slingshots back up. “And that your Casanova skills are severely lacking.”
“I can’t say he’s one to talk after getting Rylee pregnant in the back seat of his SUV in the Porter’s parking lot. That’s not very Casanova of him.”
“Stop trying to divert the question. Who is she? Tell me all about her. Tell me everything. Every little detail.” She rests her elbow on the bar.
I rub the back of my neck. “There’s not much to tell.”
“I’ll take ‘that’s a lie’ for five hundred. You can’t wipe that grin off your face.”
She’s right. It is a lie. The memory of Kat will live rent-free in my head for eternity. But that’s all it will be. A memory. Because I don’t even know her real name. “Yeah, we had our fun and went our separate ways.”
Disappointment etches her face. “So that’s it? No late-night phone calls or text messages, making plans to meet up in the future? No a long-distance love affair?”
“Nope.”
She frowns. “That’s not very romantic of you.
“I never claimed to be romantic.”
“That’s the problem with guys nowadays.” She waves a finger at me. “They only want flings and one-night stands. It’s like they’re allergic to relationships.”
I shrug. “Why have a relationship when you can have flings and one-night stands?”
“It’s annoying.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her to my chest. “Aww, is someone wanting a relationship? Is my little Nora finally growing up?” I am more than happy to divert this conversation away from me.
She shrugs. “A second phone call would be nice.”
I pat the top of her head. “Your prince charming is waiting for you to sweep him off his feet.”
“At this rate, I’m willing to settle for a semi-charming knight who can keep up with me.”
“Good luck with that. Is my interrogation over?”
“No. But I’ll let you put your stuff away.” She steps out of my grasp.
It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I saw Kat, and she’s still at the forefront of my mind. Maybe I should have said “fuck it” and sat next to her on the plane. My skin tingles from where her soft hands roamed over my body. Visions of her even softer lips pressed against mine play in my head. Her moans and whimpers. There was only one tiny difference between her fake orgasm, which sounded just as good as her real one. Her nose would crinkle as if she was about to sneeze before she detonated around me. Initially, I overlooked it, but now it consumes my thoughts. I adjust myself in my jeans. The last thing I need is to be walking around work with a half-hard dick. I shove all thoughts of Kat to the back of my mind under lock and key. It was one and done. I don’t even know where she’s at right now. It was only a quick vacation fling. No more, no less. But fuck, a part of me wishes she was in Harbor Highlands. I toss my backpack into a locker. The metal door rattles as I slam it shut.
When I return to the bar, Jake’s sitting on a stool, still wearing a jacket, shuffling through a stack of mail. He glances up. “Hey. How was the wedding?”
“It was great. Dessa and Garrett are obnoxiously cute together.”
Jake nods along. “Good.”
Nora strolls down the bar and rests her elbow on the worn wood bar top. “Did you know Lach hooked up with someone?”
I press my lips together as Jake swings his gaze toward me. I was hoping I was done with this conversation, but Nora wants to keep poking the hornet’s nest.
“Congratulations,” Jake says nonchalantly.
“Thanks, man.”
Nora’s arm drops to her side. “Wait, you don’t want all the dirty details?”
“Not really.” Jake shakes his head. We’re not the type of friends who analyze each other’s sex lives.
“Seriously?” She peers at Jake, then at me. “You two are best friends. What the heck do you talk about if you’re not talking about your random hookups?”
Jake lifts his gaze and meets mine, brows drawn together. “Sports. Beer. Video games.”
“Jake helped me fix the brakes on my truck,” I add.
“Lach helped me with my upstairs bathroom remodel,” Jake says.
Nora closes her eyes and drops her head back, fake snoring. “Oh my god. You guys are so boooring.”
“Alright, while you two discuss Lach’s sex life, I have to go pick up my sister in The Cities.” The barstool scrapes across the linoleum floor as he pushes away from the bar. “I guess her plane got delayed or something. A guy had a seizure, and they had to make an emergency landing.”
Nora’s eyes go wide. “That’s so crazy.”
“There was a guy on my flight that had a medical emergency. We had to make an emergency landing as well,” I say. “What are the chances?”
“That’s definitely out of the ordinary. Don’t burn the place down.” Jake’s gaze flits between me and Nora.
Nora gives him a two-finger salute.
Jake rolls his eyes and strolls out the door, stack of mail in hand.
When the door closes, Nora turns her attention to me, a wide grin on her face. “Well, lucky for you, I’m not Jake, and I want all the dirty details.”
I give Nora the briefest of rundowns of my hookup—just enough to satisfy her appetite. Luckily, a customer approaches the bar to distract her and, hopefully, she forgets all about me.
While Nora’s serving the customer at the other end of the bar, I flip over a cardboard coaster and grab a pen from my back pocket. The black ink slides across the cardboard, leaving a small indent in its wake. With one long stroke, I loop around, connecting one end to the other. I continue all the way around the coaster until the loops connect to themselves. With small, soft strokes, I fill the center of the loops, forming a circle.
Nora peers over my shoulder. “Is that a sunflower?
“Yep.”
“I didn’t know you were into drawing floral arrangements.”
“It’s just a sunflower.” Without taking my eyes off the coaster, I continue drawing.
She rests her elbows on the bar, watching me, not the pen. “But why a sunflower?
“Something that just came to my mind.” Not because it’s the tattoo on Kat’s neck, right below her ear. I continue shading under the petals.
Nora pushes to her full height. “I call bullshit.”
My pen falls to the bar top, and I turn to face her. “Why?”
“Because you’re not a flower type of guy.”
“Guys can like flowers.”
“Yeah, but not you. I’ve watched you doodle tons of drawings, and you’ve never once drawn a flower.” Her eyes flicker to life as if she discovered the holy grail. “Is that her name?”
“Sunflower?” I scoff. “Who has the name Sunflower?”
“The woman you hooked up with.” She quirks a blonde eyebrow at me. When I say nothing, she continues. “Spill now, or I’ll keep hounding you for the rest of our shift. And basically for eternity until you tell me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She’s like an annoying little sister. At times, you want to ignore her, but you’ll also be the first person to have her back if she’s in trouble. I exhale a deep breath. “She had a tattoo of a sunflower.”
“Tell me more about her.” With her elbow resting on the bar, she props her chin on her hand.
All my favorite things about Kat jump to the front of my mind. “She has the sweetest laugh. It’s infectious. And the softest blonde hair and prettiest hazel eyes that are easy to get lost in.”
She smiles brightly. “See, that wasn’t so hard, now, was it? And you’re in love with this Sunflower?” Her brows raise in question.
I swipe the coaster off the bar and shove it in my back pocket. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you,” I say over my shoulder as I stalk to the other end of the bar.
“Okay. I’m sorry.” Her footfalls chase me from behind. “I didn’t realize it was such a sensitive topic. Clearly, she made an impression on you. What’s her name?”
Silently, a customer gets my attention for a refill. I grab a pint glass and fill it with beer from the tap before sliding it across the bar. “Kat. But that’s not her real name. At least I don’t think so. She gave us fake names. I’m Patrick. She’s Kat.”
Nora presses her fingers to her lips for a second before she spits out, “Ten things I hate about you.”
My eyebrows raise. I guess the truth finally comes out. I thought we were good friends. Clearly, I was wrong. “What the hell? I can imagine maybe one thing you hate about me, but ten, really?”
She rolls her eyes and sighs. “No, the movie. 10 Things I Hate About You . The main male character is Patrick. The main female character is Kat. There’s a fake dating thing.”
My heart jump-starts back to life. “But that doesn’t make any sense. We’re not fake dating. We didn’t even know each other.”
“Maybe it’s your bad-boy vibe with a heart of gold. It’s very Patrick Verona of you. And perhaps the mystery woman is feisty like Kat.” Nora playfully swats my arm. “It makes perfect sense.”
I shake my head, still confused. Kat was pretty feisty. It was one thing that held my attention. Not many girls would kiss a stranger at a bar, go back to their hotel room, ditch them, only to reunite with them at the airport and share a hotel room together. She left an impression, but it’s over, and I need Kat out of my head.
Customers remain steady for the rest of the night, so I don’t have time to stew about Kat. After Nora and I close the bar, she sets the alarm and locks the door. Streetlamps light our way as we stroll across the empty parking lot. Once she’s in her car, I round the back of my truck and pull out my phone. With my thumb, I scroll through my contact list until I find the number I’m looking for. The call rings several times.
“Hey, Lach.”
“Hey, Emiliee. I know it’s late, but I wanted to see what you’re doing.”
I fish the keys out of my pocket and unlock my truck.
“I’m at home. Lying in bed. It would be more fun if you were here next to me.” Her voice purrs through the speaker.
“I was thinking—” I pull open the door and lift my leg to get in. My brows knit together as something stiff in my back pocket stops me. Reaching behind me, I pull out the cardboard coaster I was drawing on earlier. The black ink sketch of a sunflower stares back at me. Fuck. Emiliee’s not Kat. “Sorry, Emiliee. Something came up. I’ll talk to you later.”
“But Lach?—”
I end the call.
How in the hell can a girl I’ve known for two days throw my entire world off its axis? Better question: How the hell am I going to get her off my mind?