I shiver. I think hardest just became my favorite adjective of all time. And it hasn't slipped my attention that he used the plural form of the noun orgasm.
When his gaze moves back to my face, he smiles. “But most importantly, I’m really, really digging your laugh. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep hearing it all night.”
At that, my heart does a gymnastic routine that would score gold at the Olympics.
I blink through my foggy vision again. Who the hell is this man? Because he seems to have me all figured out.
The strobe lights play on his face—blue then yellow then green—teasing at the sharp angles and defined features. Just as I’m falling under his spell, I snap out of it and I self-consciously check around the room for spectators again.
"I know what you're thinking,” he tells me. “You're thinking it's wrong. It's against the rules to leave a bar with a stranger on a night like tonight. Even though your body's clearly telling you to."
A slight smile curves my lips around the rim of my martini glass. "Stranger danger."
He laughs. Deep. Rich. Sexy. "Stranger danger. Right.” He shifts his stool closer and lowers his face. The manly scent of his cologne fills my belly as his voice fills my ear. “But something tells me you've followed the rules and look where that's gotten you...”
He’s so very right about that. I’ve been the good girl. I’ve obeyed the guidelines in the country club rulebook, I’ve honored the obligations in my mother’s social calendar, I’ve followed those pre-wedding diets with painful accuracy. And my wedding day turned out like this.
"I don't even know your name,” I whisper past the fear gripping my vocal chords.
The corners of his eyes crinkle. His perfect teeth glisten in the strobe lights. "Pick one."
"Pick what?"
"Pick a name. What are you gonna call me tonight? What's my story?"
I smile at his playfulness and some of my tension dissipates. "You're Antonio. Tony for short.”
He grins. “And what do I do for a living?”
“You’re a hardworking mechanic, by day,” I say.
“And by night?” He nibbles back a smile.
“By night, you’re a musician—"
“Well, I can’t sing for shit, sweetheart,” he confesses, eyes twinkling.
I like his silliness. It’s charming. It makes me forget that I’m 99% about to go to a hotel room with a man I just met.
“Okay, you’re a sculptor, by night.” My glossy fingernails tap against the countertop. “And also, you volunteer as an art instructor at a community center.”
“Because I love kids, of course.” His voice quirks with sarcasm.
“Of course.”
He runs his fingers along his stubble. “What else?”
I think for a while. “You have a cute studio apartment on the artsy side of town and on the weekends, you run errands for the sweet, old lady who lives downstairs.”
“You forgot to mention that I like long walks in the park.”
My cheeks swell with a smile. “Right. You’re basically every woman’s dream…”
He nods solemnly. “Fine. I can live with that story.” He looks deep into my eyes. “And what’s your story?”
I bite my lip and shrug a shoulder. “You can just keep calling me Daisy. I’m…I’m just the girl who got left at the altar, I guess.” A little part of me dies as this new piece of my identity settles into place. I’m Sophia Gallo, jilted bride.
He edges even closer to me. “Oh, Daisy. You’re so much more than that. And I’m dying to show you.” He lays his hand down on the counter, callused palm facing up. “Be bad tonight. Come up to my room with me...And be bad."
I glance around for my friends. Nova is at the other end of the bar, curly hair flying and long arms flailing animatedly as she argues with Charlie about whose fault it is that my wedding day went belly up. As for Reese, she’s on the terrace, wearing an impatient expression while her ex-boyfriend appears to be trying to win her back. The rest of my bridal party is lost in the crowd, dancing the way they would have been at my wedding reception.
The man's finger touches my chin, lifting my face to his. "You don't need anybody's approval, Daisy. Not tonight.”
I don't want to turn him away and spend the night here alone, wallowing in pain and drowning in booze.
I want to say yes.
My desire is bigger than my guilt, bigger than my conscience, bigger than the misguided sense of loyalty I feel toward the man who left me standing solo at the altar a few hours ago.
Crazy or not, I’m doing this. Because all I know is, before this stranger took the seat next to me and invaded my personal space with his chiseled features, his gorgeous scent and his insufferable bravado, I felt like I was on my way to a complete meltdown. But within minutes, he has me laughing and my heart is fluttering, forgetting to be broken.
I let go of my cocktail glass. I let go of my fear. Sliding from my stool, I put my hand in his.
"Yes."
And that one word changes everything.
1
Sophia
Present day
“Ooh—what about this guy?”
Reese tilts the smartphone screen and peers at me from across the kitchen table with excessive levels of optimism in her voice. Her short fingernail jabs excitedly at the overly-pretty face of the Clark Kent lookalike. She arches her neck at an unholy angle to read the man’s carefully-fabricated online persona without having to move the phone away.
“His name is Travis…He’s 29…He likes long walks in the park…He adores animals…He works as a—”
With an impatient harrumph, Nova shoves half of a pink lemonade cupcake into her mouth, leans across the table and snatches the phone away. “Fuck the getting to know you stuff—let’s just skip straight to the sex.”
Nova is still as charming as always, obviously.
Reese falls back into her chair, her face contorting with feigned offence. She clasps her hand over her heart. “Does your husband know you’re out here propositioning people like this?”
Always ready with a sassy clapback, Nova snorts a laugh. “I’m a happily married woman. Your brother keeps me unbelievably satisfied, Reesie. Don’t make me tell ‘the story’ again.” She waggles her brows and we instantly know exactly what story she’s talking about.
Apparently, Charlie does this hot sex-thing with his kneecaps and his pinkie toe. I’ve tried to imagine it a million times but the way Nova tells it, it really doesn’t sound anatomically possible so I just have to take her word for it.
At the mere mention of her brother’s sex life, Reese scowls and squirms like a wildcat who just stepped into a drop trap. "Please, please, please don't tell that story again. I'd rather barricade myself in the pantry and chaulk my ears with cake frosting than hear that story again."
Thoroughly amused, Nova throws Reese a taunting wink and clicks on a shirtless photo of Travis. "So, as I was saying..." She spreads two fingers across the screen, enlarging the photo to zero in on the guy's crotch. "Holy dick print!" she blurts out. "That's a cervix puncture waiting to happen."
Reese throws a cursory glance at the screen and shrugs, unimpressed. "Psht. Leo's is bigger."
"Well, we all know Charlie is packin’.” Nova holds her hands a foot apart and tilts her head suggestively. “Plus, he's got that whole pinkie-toe-slash-kneecap thing going."
Reese's face looks green. She makes a gagging sound in her throat. I lift my cupcake to my mouth and hide my grin.
How are these two girls my best friends? I still don’t understand. We’re all so different, it’s a wonder we’re able to find common ground.
We all met when we were just teenagers. Reese and I were neighbors. We lived across the street from each other back then. That girl is just a tornado of ‘good’ and when you come in contact with her, you can’t help but be swept up in her kindness and optimism and good vibes. I’m in awe of her.
A lot has changed for her si
nce that night in Las Vegas. She married an incredible man, adopted his son and then popped out a pair of adorable twins. And still she manages to run a chain of successful cupcake shops with her sister, Vivian, and be actively involved with her aging parents. I don’t know how she does it all.
Then there’s Nova…Nova’s funky. Big hair. Big personality. Big ambitions. Drop-dead gorgeous. Insanely talented. Marches to her own drummer. She and I used to bump heads a lot because we’re complete opposites in terms of temperament. But in my lowest moments, Nova was there with her tough love and her heartfelt encouragement. Her constant ‘you’re a badass’ reminders got me through some of my worst days.
Aside from that she’s insane. She’s one of those people who didn’t even realize she was pregnant until she was in a hospital bed with her feet in stirrups and the doctor announced that she was six centimeters dilated. She found her perfect match in Reese’s older brother, Charlie. I don’t know any other man who’d be able to handle the whirlwind that is Nova Chester Hartley.
I wish my two girlfriends weren’t so invested in trying to find me a guy but I guess they just think I feel left out. Nova and Reese both have amazing men in their lives. Men who have their backs and stand by their sides and make them insanely happy. Good, honorable guys.
Men who surprise them by picking up their favorite takeout dinner on the way home on a random Tuesday night.
Men who remember anniversaries and plan out romantic getaways months in advance.
Men who took the kids to Daddy and Baby yoga class this afternoon so that their wives could have a kid-free day.
Men who are everything I subconsciously knew Josh wasn't.
I’ve been hesitant to even consider dating since my wedding disaster two years ago. And come on—after what happened to me, who can blame me for being protective of myself? I have a PhD in heartache and abandonment. I could write a freaking dissertation on what happens when you trust the wrong man.
But more importantly, I have a daughter now.
Yup, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas…unless you skip your period three weeks later, only to have the doctor tell you you’ve got a lentil pea-sized human taking up residence in your uterus.
I smile to myself and dust cupcake crumbs from my yoga pants as River, who’s snuggled up on my chest, whimpers in her sleep. I kiss the centre of her head and stroke her mop of dark hair. My lentil pea is almost a year and a half now.
Yes, my little girl is the center of my universe and protecting her from the cruel world is my number one priority. True, I get lonely sometimes but not lonely enough to let some overgrown frat boy penetrate my heart—or my vagina, for that matter—just because he adores long walks in the park and has an impressive dick print.
Reese's attention comes back to me as she tucks a lock of her thick, dark hair behind her ear. "So, what do you think, Soph?" She nods her chin in the direction of the pretty boy on the phone. Her feral excitement swells with each word. "Let’s send him a message!"
Nova’s already got the message box open on the screen. "Let's do this!” she hoots.
I clutch River protectively to my chest and rub small circles into her back. “I don’t think so, guys. I really don’t see myself with anybody right now.” I start spitting out justifications. “River’s still so young and I’m finally about to move the daycare out of my house, into a real daycare center. I have too much on my plate to even consider a relationship.”
The past two years have been tough. But every sacrifice has been worth it. From the moment I learned I was pregnant, every decision I've made has had her best interest at its core. Even when I’m terrified. Even when I’m exhausted. Even when I don’t know how I’m going to get us to the end of the week. River always comes first.
Growing up, I never had to work too hard. My parents kept me spoiled and pampered. I had unlimited access to my father’s credit cards and money popped up in my bank account every week like clockwork.
And then, there was Josh…Let's keep it real—Josh's dick was hardly the cervix-puncturing type but he was pretty and gave me a cushy life. Lavish weekend trips to New York City just for the heck of it. Designer clothes spilling out of a walk-in closet . Living the good life. And it was all funded by his parents.
True, I loved him but in retrospect, that wasn’t enough to sustain our relationship. I was too in love with the way my name looked next to his on paper. The prestige of being Mrs. Joshua Davies overruled all logic and common sense. I turned a blind eye to everything else because I was so caught up in my fairytale.
I was so damn superficial. So caught up in looking like I had it all. When I think back on it now, it's embarrassing. But thankfully, I'm not that person anymore—a complacent, pampered, out-of-touch idiot who dropped everything that mattered to me in the name of a one-sided love.
Never. Again.
Josh’s betrayal made me a stronger person. I stand on my own two feet. Even when they're tired and swollen and covered in bunions and stuffed into ratty, scuffed-up sneakers from Target.
I’m proud of who I’ve become, as a mother, as a businesswoman, as a person. I’m self-reliant for the first time in my life. And that’s a big deal.
“At least take another look at him before you say no, Sophia.” Reese clasps her hands together and pouts, begging me with her eyes.
With a sigh, I take the phone from her hand and examine the man's face again. It's perfect. His body is, too. In an airbrushed, Instagram-filtered sort of way. But it does nothing for me.
Big, rough hands. A strong, scruffy jaw. A playful, arrogant smirk. Dark, intense eyes. That’s the only image my body responds to ever since that night in Vegas. It’s kind of sad the way my whole system reacts to the mere thought of him.
It wasn't love.
It was nothing more than a one-night stand.
That’s what I’m still trying to convince myself of. Except every time I look at my daughter, I know it’s not that simple.
"Soph?!” Nova snaps her fingers and I jolt. "Are we sending this message or not?"
I scrunch up my nose and shake my head. "Nah, I'll pass."
Reese slumps back in her chair and folds her arms, disappointment in her tone. "Why? He seems nice."
I glance at him again. "He's so..." I rotate my wrist in the space in front of me as I search for the perfect word.
"So...?" Reese prods me along.
"So...symmetrical."
Nova gives me a look of bewilderment. I giggle softly, shrugging a shoulder as I reach for another cupcake.
A sardonic laugh catapults from her throat. "Oh, okay. I forgot. Your type is bug eyes and lopsided nostrils...And micro-dick prints, of course."
I tilt my head to the side and glare at her. "You know what I mean. I just don't need another heartache at the hands of a well-heeled, overly-groomed, starch-collared jerk.”
I’m not about that plastic life. Not anymore.
Thankfully, I see the understanding dawning in Reese's eyes. "Okay, maybe a dating app is a little too adventurous for you. Maybe we just need to go the old-fashioned route, y'know? Go to a bar and have a drink." She gathers her hair off of her neck and twists it into a loose bun as she speaks.
Nova's emerald eyes light up. "Oh, that sounds like fun. We could use a night out. A girls' night on the town."
I twist up my nose, not afraid to let my facial expression convey how I feel about the idea.
"Come on, Soph!" Reese slaps me playfully on the back of the hand.
Nova sighs, her shoulders tumbling in defeat. "I know that things are different now. So much has changed in the past two years. A lot of it good. I mean, we have businesses to run and babies to feed and cocks to suck..."
Reese chokes on a bite of her cupcake.
“Prude,” Nova teases and gives her a solid slap on the back before continuing, "I don't want us to grow apart. I don't want to lose you bitches."
Despite her indelicate delivery, my friend’s words sink in. We’ve been growing
apart.
Cupcake Sunday used to be our weekly tradition. Once a week, we'd gather at Reese's kitchen table to keep her company as she experimented with different recipes for her cupcake shop. We'd laugh and gossip and eat until we were stuffed. (Actually, Nova and Reese would eat until they were stuffed. I would sneak a few nibbles of frosting between passive aggressive text messages from my mother’s personal trainer, reminding me of which upcoming events on her social calendar required me to fit into a size two Oscar de la Renta.)
In recent times, Cupcake Sunday has become way too sporadic. Because we let life get in the way.
Going to a bar and letting random guys hit on me is the absolute last thing I feel like doing but as a single mom, my connection with my girlfriends is important to me. Sometimes, it’s what keeps me sane. When they aren’t driving me crazy, of course.
I rough out a breath. "All right. Fine. I'll go." I glance at Nova. "Are you happy now?"
She flashes a row of dazzling, white teeth. "Ecstatic!"
Right then, the front door bursts open and a freight train of commotion barrels inside. “We’re home!” Leo announces as he plods through the doorway with the twins strapped to his body in a scary-looking baby-carrying contraption.
Brenton excitedly swerves around him and runs straight for Reese, leaping into her arms. “Hi everybody!” the little boy calls out. Leo and the twins join in the hug.
Charlie follows behind, taking careful steps with tiny Madalyn clutched to his chest like precious cargo. “Hey ladies.” Nova meets them halfway and greets them both with exuberant kisses.
It’s pure chaos and it wakes River right up. Startled and disoriented, my little one starts to scream bloody murder. I shush into her ear, trying in vain to calm her amid the noise. My attempts fail.
I rise from my chair, grabbing my diaper bag from the floor by my feet. “Guys, that’s my cue. I’m gonna get going.”
Nova throws me a disappointed look as she pulls free of Charlie’s arms. “So soon?”
I gesture with my chin to my crying toddler. “Sorry. Gotta go.”
Dream Boy Page 2