Pen Pal

13

He throws his head back and drains the rest of his beer. I drink more of my whiskey and fiddle with my wedding band, twisting it around my ring finger with my thumb. Aidan notices.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“It would be great if you didn’t.”

Ignoring that, he says, “Do you find me attractive?”

My breath catches. My heartbeat takes off at a gallop. I set the glass down on the table and say carefully, “I’m married.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“Aidan—”

“Because I think you’re beautiful. Sad, a little bitchy, but f*****g beautiful. I want you to come home with me tonight.”

Floored, I gape at him. “What?”

He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t respond. He simply stares right into my eyes and waits.

I rip my gaze away from his and fix it on the framed copy of Dogs Playing Poker while I struggle to get my breathing under control. “I don’t sleep with strangers.”

“You just said I wasn’t a stranger.”

“Fine. I don’t sleep with recent acquaintances, either.”

“Look at me.”

“I’d rather not.”

He takes my chin in his hand and turns my head so I’m staring into his eyes.

“Do you find me attractive?”

My body erupts into flames. I swallow nervously, then say, “No.”

“Right. Let’s try that again. And this time, be honest with me. Do you find me attractive?”

I pull my lower lip between my teeth and chew on it. His gaze drops to my mouth, then moves back up to my eyes.

Keeping his hand on my chin, he says gruffly, “That’s what I thought. So come home with me. Let me make love to you. You need it.”

I pull away and cover my eyes with a hand. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Nobody’s ever told you they wanted to f**k you before?”

My face is so hot, it feels sunburned. My ears, too. “I should get going.”

“Don’t run away.”

“That’s usually what people do when they’re scared.”

“You’re not scared of me. You’re just surprised. They’re two different things.”

“How would you know if I’m scared or not? You don’t even know me!”

“I know enough.”

I choke out an astonished laugh. “Goddamn, you’re really sure of yourself, aren’t you?” “Look at me, Kayla.”

“I can’t. I might melt into a flaming puddle of embarrassment.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed that you want to f**k me.”

“Oh, my God! Will you listen to yourself?”

He pulls my hand from my face and doesn’t let go of it. He cups his other hand around my cheek and gently turns my head toward him.

When I’m looking at him, he says, “You said you were a good BS spotter. So tell me if you think this is BS. I want you. You want me, too. You’re sad. I want to make you feel better, even if that only means for tonight. You’re not afraid of me. You know I won’t hurt you. You’re just a little f****d up right now, you’re not used to people saying exactly what they mean, and you’re not sure how to handle it.”

His gaze drops to my mouth again. His voice comes out husky. “And you want me to kiss you.”

My heart pounding painfully hard, I say faintly, “You’re insane, is that it? You’re a crazy person.” “You know I’m not.”

“I can honestly say I don’t even know my own name right now.”

“It’s Kayla,” he says softly, then leans in and presses his lips against mine.

It’s barely a kiss. There’s no tongue. There’s hardly any pressure. It’s only the slightest brush of his mouth over mine, then it’s over.

And I’m gasping.

Shaking and gasping for air, because my lungs are being squeezed in a vise and every drop of adrenaline my body can produce has flooded my bloodstream.

That non-kiss was electric.

Staring deep into my eyes, he whispers, “You want another one?”

I pause to take a ragged breath as he watches me from inches away, his eyes feral. “I’m not sure. I’m feeling overwhelmed. My brain isn’t working right, so I can’t really give you an honest yes or no.”

“Okay,” he says, lightly stroking his thumb back and forth over my cheekbone. “You let me know when you decide.”

Then he withdraws and motions to the bartender for another round of drinks.

I almost collapse facedown onto the table, but manage to control myself. I take a gulp of whiskey and let out a heavy, uneven breath. “I won’t be able to drive home if I have any more to drink. Or is that your plan?”

“My plan is to get you naked and find out how you sound when you come.” “Holy...”

“I don’t want you drunk, though. I want you to remember everything so you come back for more.”

“You sound confident that I would.”

“I am. And you will.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “It must be fantastic to go through life with such self-confidence.” “It is. I want to kiss you again.”

“Can you please give me a minute to regain my footing? I feel like someone just pushed me off a

cliff.”

“You’re fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you don’t want to cry anymore.”