Chapter 27 Rachel
I lied to Tyler. I told him we could forget all about it after it happened. I’ll never be able to forget him. But he doesn’t have to know.
He did me a favor. A kindness.
A wonderful, surprisingly pleasurable kindness.
"Is it always like that?" My legs feel like rubber. I don’t think I could get up and walk, even if I needed to.
Tyler lies next to me, sweaty and panting himself. "No."
No? What does he mean by no? Is no a good thing or a bad thing? I don’t expect to have rocked his world, because I had virtually no idea what I was doing.
Not gonna lie, everything I needed to know, I learned from romance novels. Suddenly, I’m grateful to my sister for making me read all those spicy books out loud to her. Hell, I’m grateful to my sister for a number of reasons right now, but mostly because of the orgasm I had.
It’s different when it’s with another person.
It’s so much better.
I’m determined not to let his words crush me.
I prop up on one elbow, clutching the top of the sheet around my chest, and lean over to give him a quick kiss.
"Well, I’m sorry for you, but thank you from me.
I have nothing to compare it to, so I think it was fantastic.
I really didn’t expect to enjoy myself, if you know what I mean. "
Tyler smiles. "There was no way you were going to get through your one-night stand without enjoying yourself." Then he rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom, his fantastic naked buttocks on display. Seriously, I could bounce a quarter off of those.
It’d probably be out of line to ask.
Though almost everything I’ve done since I met him has been out of line.
Alone in bed for a moment, I have to remind myself it was just sex. It was just sex. It was just sex. I promised him it would be just that. He did enough for me.
I can’t go and do something stupid like fall in love with him.
That’s what my mother would do. She’d mistake kindness for love. Then she’d hang all her hopes and dreams on someone who just wanted a good time. No, I can leave it as just a good time.
I pull the hotel robe over my shoulders and tie the sash before wandering over to the bathroom door. Knocking lightly, I say, "Do you want to get some breakfast?"
He opens the door. He’s fully dressed. I hadn’t even noticed him picking up his clothes from the floor where he’d discarded them last night. "Yeah, sure. I want to go back to my room and get my stuff packed up first, if that’s okay."
"Yeah, probably a good idea. I should shower and pack, too. I think checkout is eleven."
"Okay. Meet you in the lobby then?"
I nod. Tyler leans in and kisses me. It’s slow at first, but it quickly deepens. It’s definitely not a quick good-bye peck. I can feel his mouth smiling against mine. "That was just a friend kiss. See you in a few."
With that, he’s gone. I place my hands on my lips to see if they feel any different. They’re a little swollen, perhaps. Quickly, I run to the mirror. Do I look different?
My face is flushed. My hair is a mess. I have a hickey on my chest, just below my collarbone. He gave me a hickey!
I’m in the bathroom putting myself back together when Ophelia comes back. "Hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience having TJ crash here."
It’s a good thing I’ve got my toothbrush stuck in my mouth so she can’t scrutinize my expression. "It’s fine. We got ice cream and went to a comedy show. Did you know his brother’s a comedian? Has a Netflix special and everything."
Distract, distract, distract.
"I think we’re gonna get some brunch as soon as we’re all packed. Did you and Xavier eat yet?"
"No, can we join you?"
Several series of text messages follow, and before we know it, we’re a party of twelve having the brunch buffet at The Wynn. Normally, that many people would be too much for me. Today, I’m counting on the crowd to help me sit there without things being weird between Tyler and me.
I just need a few minutes to remember how to act around him. To be able to be in the same room and not think about his lips on my breasts and his hands there. For as long as I live, no matter how hard I try, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget what he felt like inside me.
And no matter how many times I tell myself that it was only a one-night stand, my brain is hijacking the conversation by dreaming about seeing him again, hanging out with him, and sleeping with him again. Most definitely that.
I 100 percent understand my mother. Promising herself she won’t get attached and then letting herself down immediately. The only difference is that I don’t have two little kids. She has spent her whole life chasing love that she didn’t deserve.
Guess this apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
Once in the lobby, Tyler immediately starts introducing me to his teammates.
One name after another. Maliq. Merriweather.
Andy. Crew. I smile and shake hands, knowing I’ll never remember who’s who.
It’s easier when they have their names and numbers on their backs, but I guess they can’t wear their jerseys everywhere.
Would be helpful though.
The guys have arranged for several cars to pick us up. Ophelia and I check our bags with the concierge and follow the Buzzards out. The two of us end up crammed in the back seat together. Tyler’s not even in this car with me.
Okay, that’s fine. He’s not blowing me off. He knows I’m with Ophelia, and I’m fine with that. Friends wouldn’t care about such a trivial detail. Nor would they care when they don’t get to sit together at brunch. There are a lot of people. We’re all friends here.
This is not a rejection. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. If I say it enough, I might start to believe it.
"So, you’re friends with Ophelia?" the guy sitting to my right says. I think his name is Crew. Ophelia’s on my left, so I can see why he’d think that. "Um, yeah. I mean, we roomed together."
I don’t know what else to say to him. I don’t want to get into why I’m on this trip to begin with. Most people wouldn’t understand. They’d think it’s lame and stupid. Desperate even. Maybe that’s what Tyler thinks of me this morning.
I should have known better than to ask him for a pity screw.
Also, now I know why one-night stands are a bad idea.
No matter how much you tell yourself you’re not going to catch feelings, it starts to happen.
Not for everyone. Probably not for a lot of people.
Not for Tyler. But for someone like me. Someone who has always wanted unconditional love and acceptance.
Someone who has never deserved it.
I didn’t anticipate what the physical aspect of it would do. How I’d turn to mush in his hands. How I’d part my legs and take him in and never want to let him go. My brain chemistry isn’t the greatest to begin with, and now my hormones are definitely messing things up even more.
But I won’t break my promise to him.
Plus, if it were anything more, it wouldn’t be a one-night stand, and I wouldn’t be able to cross it off the list. I’m not going through all of this for nothing.
Speaking of which, that sort of makes me feel bad for Richie.
I mean, I feel terrible for her a lot of the time, with her being dead and all.
But it’s really a shame that she never got to have the pleasure I had last night.
Her two minutes of fumbling with Jason Flemming in the back of his car was a dismal experience.
I will grant her her honorary virginity back.
It’s also a shame she never got to come to Vegas.
It truly is a sight to behold. Especially this buffet.
There is so much food, I hardly know where to begin.
I’m standing there, holding my plate, when Tyler steps up beside me.
I know it’s him before I even hear his voice.
"Don’t forget to leave room for dessert.
This is a place where you can have your cake and eat it, too. "
I glance up at him. If we were in a romance novel, the look he’s giving me would best be described as a smolder.
I never knew what that was until now. Now the image is seared into my brain.
Jesus, my knees threaten to buckle right then and there, and my girl parts are panting and fanning themselves.
I also now officially know what a panty-dropper is. Merriam-Webster should have a picture of TJ Doyle as he looks right now.
"Friends don’t talk about cake," I remind him. "Friends forget about the cake and move on to brownies. Or cookies. Or chocolate pudding."
"Chocolate pudding? On a buffet?" He wrinkles his nose.
I look around at the massive selection of food.
There’s an Asian station, a Mexican station, a seafood station, carving stations, as well as traditional breakfast offerings.
"Well, my grandparents were big fans of Golden Corral and Old Country Buffet when we were little. Those buffets always had chocolate pudding on them. I’m not so sure this is in the same league. "
"Trust me, you’re still in Vegas. There are many more decadent things to find on this buffet than chocolate pudding."
My eyelids flutter closed for a second. This is going to be harder than I thought. Not just making sure my pants still zip after I’m done here, but making sure my pants stay on around him. Not flirting with Tyler. Not touching him. Not wanting what we had last night. Again.
I promised him, though. Just because no one’s ever been able to keep a promise to me doesn’t mean I won’t keep mine to him. I’m going to be better. I’ll keep my word.
I head back to the table with my first selection of food—eggs Benedict, a pancake, and a loaded Tater Tot.
Gramps, a true connoisseur of the buffet, has drilled his mantra of "take all you want, but eat all you take" into my head. However, being at an all-you-can-eat buffet with professional athletes is quite mind-blowing. They put Gramps to shame. Even that stodgy old man would be impressed. I take some pictures so he doesn’t think I’m making things up.
An hour later, I’m so full I can barely move. I’m not the only one. Most of us around the table are groaning and rubbing our bellies. I don’t think I’m ever going to eat again.
Tyler stands up. Crew says, "Jeez Doyle, you’re not going back for more, are you?"
"One more thing." Tyler disappears for a moment before returning with what has to be his sixth plate. On it sits a lone piece of chocolate cake with ganache and sprinkles. I can’t stop staring at it and then him.
"How do you have room for that?" one of his teammates asks.
Without breaking eye contact with me, Tyler scoops up a piece with his fork, shoves it into his mouth, and then slowly drags the fork back out. He licks his lips and smiles. "I just wanted to have my cake and eat it too."
Reflexively, I cross my legs under the table, squeezing my thighs together. Holy shit, what does he think he’s doing to me?
It’s going to be hard enough continually replaying every kiss, every touch, every secret moment we had. How am I ever going to go back to being friends when he’s doing stuff like that?