I lie awake in bed for a long time the next morning. Everything that happened last night still feels like it was some kind of long, detailed, exquisite dream. In fact, I would assume that I had dreamt everything if not for the very real, very pleasant soreness between my legs. Oh, man was he good. I can’t remember an evening with such wild swings, from excitement, to fear, to unease, to passion. I feel like I jumped into a rushing river and have only now crawled out onto the shore where I can take stock of my journey.

A notification is flashing on my phone. I flick it on and notice it is from my bank. A deposit has been made to my account. Even though I know how much it is going to be, I still open it and check my balance. I close the app and open it again, to make sure I haven’t misread it. Yep, there is over seventy thousand dollars in there. Holy crap!

I lie back and stretch my body out, trying to convince myself to get out of bed and start the day, but my tired body wants nothing more than to just wrap the blanket tightly and laze about in bed all day long. I have a long time until I need to start getting ready for my date. I can’t believe that I am going out with Blake again. I was sure that it was going to be a one-time thing. When he asked me, in the glow of the best sex I can remember, I said yes immediately. But lying here in bed, now I’m starting to have second thoughts.

Blake is handsome, charming, and amazing in bed. What possible reason could I have for feeling uneasy about going out with him again? Well, because we never ‘went out’ in the first place. He bought a night with me. I have had one-night stands before, but none of those were ever going anywhere further. All of my relationships, by contrast, had started out as friends, or at least as acquaintances. I don’t know how to think of a relationship that starts on the auction block. Or is it even a relationship he is looking for? Maybe he just wants another night with me. Dinner is likely a lot less expensive, after all.

But can I really let this go past the one night? I am happy for the money, to be sure, but I don’t know if I want to have a constant reminder of it. How do I respond when people ask us how we met? I mean, Hannah knows, but Hannah was there herself. I can’t possibly tell anyone the truth. Do I even want to have the hassle? Is he worth it?

The image of him leaning over me pops into my head, unbidden. I feel him inside of me again. Ugh, yeah, he is probably worth it.

Another notification appears on my phone. A text from April. Crap! I agreed to cover her shift this morning. I send her a quick ‘thanks’ for reminding me and then jump out of bed and into my work clothes. I make it in the door just as my shift is starting. Thankfully, Sundays are a little slower in the early morning than the weekdays, so there is no crush of people demanding their caffeine. I stifle a yawn and get to work stocking the pastry display.

The morning is crawling by and I long to be back in bed. I chat idly with my co-workers and engage in the mindless, repetitive tasks that make up the majority of my job. It occurs to me that I am sitting on a huge pile of cash and, if I wanted to, I could just quit on the spot. But, for some reason, that doesn’t seem right. I am planning on applying all of the money from last night to my student loans, bringing them down to a semi-reasonable amount. Then I could go back to my normal life, my normal job. I mean, that debt had shown up out of nowhere and then, just like that, the solution. It was a one-time thing, a way for the universe to offer a correction when it dealt me a blow. It wasn’t exactly a career path.

There is a long lull in customers around eleven. A handful of people sit at tables, working or otherwise occupied on their laptops. I space out for a little while, like the sleep mode on a computer. I’m ready to snap back to attention, but I have literally nothing to do at the moment.

The door pulls open, letting in the noise from the street. A man enters with the bright mid-day sunlight behind him. When he walks forward, taking long, confident strides toward the counter. I recognize his face. I have seen him twice before. The first time he was sitting next to Blake at the bar, the next time he was at the party. Crap. I can’t believe my luck. I was hoping that I would never see anybody from that party again, except Hannah, of course. And Blake, I guess. But I definitely don’t need this guy, whoever he is, intruding on my normal life. It is an unwelcome invasion.

“Hello, Emma.” The guy is tall, lanky, and good-looking in an overgrown frat boy sort of way. But there is something about him I find unsettling. Something beyond the mere fact that he knows what I had done last night.

“Hello, can I get you something to drink?” I don’t want to engage this guy in conversation. I don’t know why he’s here and honestly, I am not interested in finding out. Hopefully, I can make that clear to him.

He smiles an oily, overly friendly smile as he leans over the counter.

“I’ll have a cappuccino. Thanks. My name is Trevor, by the way.”

I turn to start making his drink. I’m grateful that the rest of my co-workers are on a break right now. It is just me behind the counter. While the extra attention might prevent this guy from saying anything…compromising, at the same time, he doesn’t look like the guy who cares about making anyone around him feel uncomfortable. I don’t want him spilling anything to my co-workers. Hopefully, I can get him out the door quickly.

“So, I hear you are going out with Blake again,” he says to my back. I don’t respond. “I guess it isn’t ‘again’, is it? I don’t think last night counts as a date, does it?” He laughs, as if it were a very clever statement. In reality, he hits a little too close to the truth. “Well, have fun. Honestly, I hope you have a good time. Because you won’t last long. They never do, you know.”

I turn around with the cappuccino in a to-go cup. He is still leaning on the counter, smiling at me.

“I’m just trying to be a friend, Emma. Don’t get too attached to Blake. He’s not the kind to stick around. He’ll get bored with you…quickly.”

I am taken aback. I doubt this guy came all the way down here and sought me out just to give me a good-natured warning. My instinct is confirmed a moment later when he continues, leaning further over the counter.

“Hope I see you next month. Maybe I’ll get a chance to…well, we’ll see what happens.”

With an unctuous wink, he turns and saunters out of the café. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.