7. American Girl
CHAPTER SEVEN
american girl
IMOGEN
We’re tucked into a small booth in the back corner of the diner, with a teal table and shiny cherry-red seats. It’s pretty chaotic for 11pm, packed with drunk college students and tourists, but I like the vibe. It kind of reminds me of a little diner that Piper and I used to go to in Queens. The whole place smells like fresh coffee, maple syrup, and french fries.
I’m digging into a stack of buttermilk pancakes, smothered in berries, whipped cream, and syrup. All the sugar and preservatives are probably going to liquify my organs by the time I’m 50, but I’m here for a good time, not a long time.
“How did you get into the whole dominatrix thing?” Henry asks, munching on a piece of bacon.
He’s been surprisingly easy to talk to. I don’t feel judged, and he really seems to consider what he’s going to say before he says it. He’s curious, but most importantly he’s open in a way that puts me at ease. I like that kind of quality in a man.
“I went through something personal that made me feel like I was out of control and numb all at the same time. I was shutting down, and I didn’t feel like I could express how I felt.” I pause to take a sip of my scalding-hot coffee. “Anyway, I didn’t want to feel powerless anymore. Kink gave me a way to take power back.”
I wait for him to interject, but he just nods, encouraging me to continue.
“It was a shock at first, but subbing for someone and knowing I had the power to say no, and that it meant no , that was everything to me. Turned out I could set my own boundaries and be as involved or detached as I pleased. No feelings if I just wanted to play, and then nothing to be sad about if and when it came to an end. Just a handshake and a ‘ see you around, partner.’ ”
I pull myself back, clearing my throat. Usually I just tell a curated version of the truth, and one that’s got a lot less of me in it. I definitely didn’t mean to go into that much detail, especially not to someone I only met a few hours ago.
Thankfully, Henry’s light chuckle makes me feel a little less awkward about it.
“Partner? Like a cowboy?”
I lean back in my chair, grinning at him as I take another bite of my pancakes.
“Yeah, I keep a cowboy hat in my car just for the dramatic goodbye. Helps if it’s at night and I’m under a streetlight so I look mysterious. Maybe whistle a little tune as I tip my hat and walk away.”
Henry smirks, shaking his head as he slices off a piece of his waffle.
“You’re quite the character.”
“Just a bit,” I reply with a little wink. “What about you? Were you always curious about kink, or…”
“Sort of. I was married for a while, but I’ve been alone for about two years now. It’s given me a lot of time to think.”
I can feel my guard raise a little; divorce can be a red flag with some guys. They say they want casual and then the next thing you know, they’re trying to nail down a commitment, chasing you with an engagement ring.
“How long were you married?”
“Four and a half years.”
“Any kids?”
“No,” he whispers. “Never had time. She wanted them, but I didn’t find that out until later. I work a lot, maybe too much.”
I pick up my mug and raise it with a grin.
“To workaholics.”
“Amen.”
Suddenly Henry looks a bit uncomfortable. Maybe he sensed that the topic of divorce put me a little on edge.
“Are you and your ex on good terms?” I ask, immediately regretting the question.
His jaw clenches, and he clings to his mug like a life raft. I can almost feel the grief crashing against him, his body tensing as the words spill from his lips.
“She’s– uh, she’s passed. It was…” He blows out a breath. “Let’s just say I didn’t expect it.”
“Oh I’m… Henry, I'm so sorry.”
It’s a struggle to even get the words out.
“No, it’s— I probably should have been up front about it, it’s just… you know, it’s hard to—” He covers his mouth with one hand and stares out the window. I can see his eyes misting as he clears his throat, quickly regaining his composure while my stomach twists itself into knots. “Sorry, you probably don’t wanna hear this shit. I’m sure I sound like a real goddamn sad sack.”
I reach across the table, wrapping my fingers around his. He doesn’t flinch, just squeezes back gently as he stares into his coffee.
“You don’t sound like a sad sack at all, you sound like you’re going through some pretty heavy shit. I never would have guessed.”
“Yeah.” He sniffles, his eyes rimmed red. “I guess grief gets comfortable to live in after a while.”
I think about my own family, and how I can still see the pain in Logan’s eyes when he talks about our dad. He’s more open about his grief than I am. Mine lives in a deep, dark place that’s hard to dig myself out of; I almost fell in last night, staring at that picture of dad and I at Disneyland.
“I lost someone, too, but we don’t have to talk about this stuff. I’m probably making things worse.”
He blinks away the tears in his eyes.
“You’re not, I promise. I want to move on. I can’t live in this place forever. It’s…”
“Lonely,” I finish.
Grief is like a wound that never quite heals. Some days, it’s faded into the background, completely out of mind; others, you’re buying apples at the store and a song comes on that brings you to your knees in the produce aisle.
“I tried dating, but it didn’t work out so well.” He offers a hollow laugh. “I think there’s a part of me that’s afraid I’m going to betray her by starting anything up with someone else. It’s why I was big on the casual thing. I think this kink stuff could, I don’t know… help me work through some of it, you know?”
“People get into this for all kinds of different reasons. I don’t judge.”
In fact, I probably understand more than he does.
“So, you grow up here?” He asks, changing the subject as he clears his throat.
“No,” I reply, happy to move on from such a dour topic. “I’m here for school. What about you?”
“Been on the west coast for about 20 years, but I grew up in Montana on a big ranch. My dad was a bull rider.”
I whistle and he smiles back at me. It feels like things are shifting back to the more playful dynamic we had on the golf course.
“Bull rider, huh? That’s a tough gig.”
“It’s not for the faint of heart. Bruises, broken bones, dislocated shoulders, the works. My mom was always on his ass telling him to quit as he got older, but he loved it. He was on the road most summers while we stayed behind and looked after the ranch.”
“Doing what?”
“Taking care of the horses and livestock, milking cows, basic repairs, stuff like that.”
“Did you ever ride any bulls? Or horses?”
“Horses, definitely, but I wasn’t really cut out for bull riding.” There’s a joyful twinkle in his eyes, like he’s just recalled a distant memory. “Haven’t ridden a horse in a few years now. Work kind of gets in the way.”
Maybe it’s the manners and the charm, or the fact that there’s a tiny bit of twang buried under his West Coast accent, but the cowboy angle fits him.
“Do you miss that life?”
“Sometimes, yeah. One of my horses is stabled up at my friend’s ranch in the Cascade Foothills. I try to get out there when I can.” He pauses. “What about you? Spend any time in the country, or…”
“No,” I laugh. “I’m definitely a city girl. But I’ve always been interested in horses. Maybe you could teach me how to ride someday.”
“Oh, yeah of course. So, I’m assuming that means you want to meet up again?”
He sounds a little surprised and I’m not sure why. He’s hot, we connect, he doesn’t seem like a creep or a serial killer.
“I’d like to, if you’re up for it.” I clear my throat, bracing myself for the slightly awkward part. “Just so you know, though, I don’t typically invite people over to my place. It’s nothing against you, just a safety thing.”
And now that I’ve moved, it’s a nosy brother thing. I do not need Logan interrogating my hookups over coffee in the morning.
“Makes sense,” he shrugs. “Lotta weirdos around.”
“Definitely. It’s just, some guys don’t like it when I bring that up.”
“Well, I figure if you’re still fine with sharing a hotel room, I’m not too worried about it. Actually, I guess I’m still not really sure how this works. Do you do hotels?”
I can feel electricity lingering in the air between us, and my body is brimming with excitement.
“I usually meet up with guys at clubs, but I haven’t really had the chance to get out to any since I got here.” I lean forward, tapping my nails against my coffee mug. “How about this: if you promise to teach me how to ride a horse, I’ll teach you everything you need to know about submission and domination. No strings attached, and none of that relationship shit. We can drop this any time we want. You in?”
Henry stares at me for a second, mulling things over in his head before offering his hand.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Jade.”
If I’m being honest with myself, I really like this guy. Piper tells me that my penchant for casual relationships is going to end up leaving me all alone. She may be right, but I’d rather protect my heart than have to glue it back together over and over again.
When the check comes, Henry snatches it away before I even have a chance to make a move, handing the waitress his credit card.
“You paid for golf, it’s only fair I pay for pancakes.”
“You drive a hard bargain, cowboy.”
I get a flutter in my chest as he blushes at the nickname, feeling a little pang of regret as we slide out of the booth. I wish we’d eaten slower, or maybe ordered another round of coffee, anything to keep this going a bit longer.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Henry says as we make our way outside.
The parking lot is empty, save for a few cars including our own, barely lit by the one or two overheard lights that are still glowing in the pitch-black. I pull my phone out, shocked at how late it’s gotten.
“Jesus, it’s past midnight,” I laugh.
“You got a curfew?” Henry teases.
“Yep, I’ve got 30 minutes before I turn into a pumpkin.” I gesture at myself, doing a little twirl. “This is all an illusion.”
“You’re doing great for a pumpkin,” he chuckles. “It does explain your golf score, though.”
“You want a rematch, smart ass?” I gently whack him in the arm. “I can get real competitive.”
“Nah, I don’t think so. The sand trap fiasco was enough humiliation for me.”
We stop at my car and he stuffs his hands in his pockets, glancing around aimlessly. He’s nervous again, but honestly, so am I. Usually, I just give guys a side-hug, maybe a quick kiss on the cheek, and quickly hash out an agreement to text each other for a second meetup. But this wasn’t enough. I want more time with him.
“You know, I almost didn’t come out tonight,” he says softly. “But I’m really glad I did.”
“I’m glad too. I had a really good time.”
Neither of us really knows what to say, and all I can hear is the sound of the wind rustling the trees and the distant roar of cars on the freeway.
Should I ask him if he wants to get a hotel tonight?
Is that too forward?
I don’t want to freak this guy out.
“Well, I guess I should…” He gestures toward his car.
“Yeah, me too.”
My skin feels like it’s on fire as his eyes lock with mine, burning into me. His smile fades a little, and suddenly I’m fully aware of just how close he’s standing.
“I didn’t want this night to end,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the sound of my pounding heartbeat.
“Me neither.”
I lean a little closer, and suddenly his hand is on my cheek, his thumb gently tracing my lip. I feel instant sparks, the tension so thick that it’s getting hard to breathe.
“I had an amazing time with you tonight,” he rumbles, a heavy silence lingering between us until he breaks it again with a laugh. “You know, I’ve spent my whole life talking and writing, and now I can’t come up with anything charming to save my life. I feel like a pretty big dork right now.”
I gaze up at him, taking in the deep hazel of his eyes.
“I kind of like the fact that you’re a dork.”
That smile is going to be the death of me.
“Fuck it,” he growls. “I wanna kiss you.”
“So quit running your mouth and do it.”
He presses his lips to mine, his massive body pushing me up against the car and caging me in. He smells like musk and leather, but it’s the undertone of soap and an unidentifiable warm sweetness that makes my knees wobble.
I’m ready to tell this man to bend me over the hood of this car and fucking take me right here. I don’t give a shit who pulls up. I’ve always wanted to explore my exhibitionist streak a little more, but maybe on a second date.
“You wanna get a hotel room?” I ask, getting the question out before either of us has time to second guess it.
“For real?”
All I can do is nod as I tip my head up and part my lips, desperate for another kiss.
“For real.”
“You’re a bit wild, aren’t you?” He chuckles.
I grin and cock my head.
“Just you wait, cowboy. I haven’t even ridden you yet.”