Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“Hi again,” she says.
“Hi,” I acknowledge her against my better judgment, but I hate being rude even if we’re only meant to be a one-time kind of thing. Besides mucking up my morning wood earlier, now she’s screwing with my body and mind. I look down and see my pants pushing out. My jog is supposed to center me. I usually have clarity and solid focus afterwards, but when I look down, I’m solid all right.
I’m actually impressed with the strength of these compression pants. They’re doing a fair job of restraining the will of a thousand armies down there. I’m still cautious about looking at her directly. She has some kind of super power that makes me want to toss my heart right into the ring of fire. And I’m not talking about anal, though I’m not opposed to that, quite the opposite. Fuck.
She interrupts my pity party. “It’s good to see you again.”
I pack away my tiny imaginary violin, and rub the back of my neck. “You mean from the last block?”
“No, from last night.”
“Yeah, okay.” I’m not sure what else to say to that. The woman vexes me. First off, how does someone who looks like her stay a virgin? Secondly, is she still a virgin after last night or did she give it up to that asshole after I warmed her up? Fucking asshole. I start running because the street is clear of traffic and I don’t know what to say to her. Does she want me to make her feel better? Tell her it’s okay that she made me feel used and slightly dirty, though the dirty part in reference to good or bad is still up for debate?
The cars start moving just as I reach the next intersection. In my peripheral I see the bright yellow cab slowly pulling up to the light. “For fuck’s sake. What the fuck?”
The cabbie’s passenger window rolls down and he leans down so I can see him. “Hey, mister, this could be a lot less weird if you hear the lady out.”
The back window rolls down and Constance Virginia looks mortified. The problem is she looks so damn good, even in mortification, that I walk up to the cab and open the door. “Scoot over.” After I slide in next to her, I shut the door, and ask, “Where are we headed?”
The driver replies in a crotchety voice, “Financial District.”
Oh, now he’s bothered. The irony is not missed. Turning toward her, I ask, “Why?”
The cab starts moving again, and Con—Virginia answers, “Because I’ll be late to work if we don’t.”
“You work in the Financial District?”
“Yes.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a financial analyst.”
“I swore off that industry when I left Manhattan three years ago.”
“What do you mean you swore it off?”
“Why did you lie about your name?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to be someone else for the night.”
“Why?”
“The truth is I was ashamed to be doing what I was doing.”
“What were you doing?”
“I wanted to feel good. I wanted to know what it feels like. Katie says I’m beautiful. I think I am, but something’s broken because I can’t seem to find love.”
“With a stranger? As for love, you weren’t looking for love, sweetheart. You were looking for a good time. I get it. I really do, but that’s not how your first time should go down.” My gaze dips down her body, that feeling in my gut returns. I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner. “Considering you’re wearing the same clothes as last night, guess you found it anyway.”
The cab comes to a stop and as much as I want to know why she’s shame-cabbing it back into the city. The stop is my cue. I open the door and get out. Just as she’s about to speak, I say, “Have a good life, Virginia.” I shut the door and start running again. With the Manhattan Bridge up ahead, I pick up speed not wanting to get trapped at a light again. When I make a right, back on track, I’m tempted to look back, but I know there’s no point. She slept with that asshole after spending time with me. There’s nothing really to discuss anymore.
When I turn down my street, I go inside the coffee shop. The morning line is long, but I wait. Watching people is a good way to take my mind off things. My favorite barista is working today. When I reach the counter, she eyes me over the pastry display. “Good morning, Hardy.”
“Good morning, Luisa.”
She giggles as her smile grows. “What can I get you this morning?”
“The usual.”
With a tease in her tone, she says, “Coming right up.”
Not able to stop my mind going to the gutter, I reply, “You’re naughty this morning, but I’m naughtier at night.” I wink.
“I remember all too well, Hardy.”