I take a drag and hold the smoke in my lungs, letting it ease away the memories and the anxiety that arose with them before blowing them out in a cloud of smoke.

I still act like the seventeen-year-old kid who packed his bags and left the only family he had. Granted, I didn’t go far. But at the age of seventeen, it was far enough. I got out of my dad’s house and his rules. Looking back now, maybe I should’ve listened. I was throwing my life away for a girl. A girl that led me to believe she cheated on me with my best friend.

I took my life and flushed it down the toilet for her. And for what? For this? A life running the damn bar my dad left me? Drinking myself to sleep every night? Taking home girl after girl, promising them I’ll call, knowing damn well I won’t? I could’ve gone somewhere, done something with my life. But when I lost Alissa, I lost everything.

I lost the love of my life, and in turn, I gave up the rest of it. I quit music, I quit love, I quit life. Traded it all in for a lonely existence, just waiting for someone to come put me out of my misery.

I take one more drink before tucking the bottle away in the bottom drawer. Stubbing out my cigarette, I push away from the desk. I sway to the door and smack the light switch off as I pass. My vision is blurry and doubling as I make my way toward the front of the bar. The crowd around me is going full force, but I’m done for the night. All I need now is a girl to keep the memories away and preferably, a ride home.

I sit down at the bar. I know it won’t take long. Wendy passes me a bottle of water, and I hold it up, confused as to why she gave me water, she knows what I drink.

“Sober up. You’re going to kill yourself drinking like that.” She offers up a small smile before walking away.

With a twist, I uncap the water and take a sip just as a pretty redhead takes the empty barstool next to me. I turn and flash her the smile that’s always gotten me whatever I wanted with women.

She smiles back seductively and pushes her red curls behind her ear. “I’m Lisa,” she says leaning in.

“Dane,” I reply.

She turns toward me. “I know. You own this place, right?”

I nod, forgetting that everyone in this town knows me and not for the best of reasons. “That’s right. Are you from around here?”

Her porcelain skin flushes pink as she crosses her legs, brushing mine with her own. “Not really. I’m from a few towns over. I come here a lot though.”

I’m getting really tired of the small talk already. Time to pull out the big guns. “What do you say to spending the night at my place?” I offer up the grin I know she can’t deny.

Her eyes flash around the bar, making sure nobody is listening, before they land on mine again. She looks me up and down, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth. “What’s in it for me?”

I shrug. “I guarantee you’ll enjoy yourself, if only for one night.” My eyes zero in on hers, and I’ve sold it. I stand, sure of myself and my skills before holding out my arm for her to take.

She stands like I knew she would and wraps her arm around mine. I lead her from the bar and into the parking lot.

* * *

“Oh, you play guitar?” Lisa asks as I lead her into the living room of my house.

“Not anymore. I used to.” I spin around to face her. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

She sits down on the red sofa, crossing her legs and drawing up her black dress to show more leg. “I’m fine, I must have had too much to drink already. I don’t ever do this,” she says blushing and averting her eyes.

Internally, I laugh. I know for a fact she’s done this on more than one occasion. I know because, like she said, she comes to my bar a lot. I’ve seen the countless men she’s left with. I don’t point that out though. I may be drunk, but I’m not stupid.

I cross the room and take a seat beside her, letting my eyes run up those long legs of hers. They travel over her hips, up to her full chest, and land on her eyes. Looking into a woman’s eyes is something a lot of men like me avoid—men who like to fuck around and have a good time. They think the woman can see into their souls, see their true intentions or some shit. But not me. I always give the women I’m with exactly what they want.

A show for a night.

They don’t want me to know they’re hoping this turns into something. Each one thinks she’ll be the exception, the one who changes me. Little do they know, I’ve already been changed by a woman, and this is what’s left. As much as they talk, they have to know what coming home with me is like.

It’s fun for a night. No expectations. No relationships. No guarantee for a future together. All they get is me, for one night only.

The eye contact does exactly what I hoped it would. She feels she can trust me now, like I’m not hiding anything from her.

Ever so slowly, I lean in, pressing my lips to hers. She opens willingly for me, letting my tongue slide against her own. The mixed drink she was drinking at the bar mixes with the flavor of Jack and smokes on my tongue.

I kiss her slowly and as passionately as I can. She falls for it hook, line, and sinker. Hastily, she slides herself onto my lap, pressing against the growing erection in my pants. My hands slide up her thighs, around to her ass, and up her back where they find the zipper of her dress. I tug it down slowly.

My fingers brush the straps from her shoulders as I trail kisses down her neck before leaning forward, causing her to fall back. My lips descend over the swell of her breast as her lips part, letting out a soft moan of pleasure.

This is my favorite part of sex. I mean, I like the sex too, but the foreplay, that’s the best part. I like to see how easily I can manipulate them. I like to see how much they can take before they’re putty in my hands. How far they will let me go?

I place my hands on her hips and stand, holding her against me as I walk us to the bedroom. We collapse on the bed, and I settle between her parted legs. I stay up on my knees and remove my shirt and unfasten my jeans, all while watching her. This is something else I’ve picked up on. They like to think I can’t take my eyes off them. Like I’m the one who doesn’t have control here. But I know the truth. I can take any damn thing I want as long as I give them that smile, look longingly into their eyes, and move in slow for that first kiss. Works every time.

I take my time priming her up. When I’m done with her, she’s panting and filled with need. Most men are greedy, they get the woman to give to them, but that’s where I’m different. While I try not to sleep with the same woman more than once, sometimes it can’t be avoided. So, I like to treat them right, make sure they have the time of their lives. That way, even if I am a dick the next morning, they can still say the sex was epic, and they’re always left wanting so much more. In turn, they give themselves to me time and time again, even if they’ll be placed on a shelf and forgotten about until I need to take them down to play again.

I roll the condom on and lay back, letting her take me for a spin for a while. I close my eyes, and she flashes in my mind. Not the redhead riding me right now, Alissa. The one who came into my life just to torture me. To show me what it felt like to love, only to rip it away. Looking back on our time together, the memory alone is enough to make my release rise to the surface. But at the last minute, I open my eyes to see who’s really on top of me. That’s all it takes for me to roll her over and spend the next hour pounding into her. Trying to make sure she never forgets my name. And trying to make myself forget everything I thought I knew.

Each and every time, it’s the same. I just keep running from her. Trying to cloud her memory with woman after woman. None of them compare. I’m always left feeling emptier than the time before, longing for what used to be, for who I used to be.

* * *

I wake, lying on my stomach with my cheek smashed against my pillow. I open my eyes to see the early morning sun pouring in my window. I squint against the bright light and rub my head. I really tied one on last night. What happened?

Then my bed moves just before someone is pressed against me. Her hand lands on my lower back and trails softly up between my shoulder blades. I turn my head to see a pretty redhead. Damn my drunk self. I did it again, but at least drunk me picks the pretty ones.

I open my mouth, but it hits me: I don’t remember her name. “Good morning.”

She smiles, unaware of her smeared makeup. “Good morning.”

We both stare awkwardly at one another, not sure what to say. I roll to my back and look at the ceiling, trying to find the words to get her out of my house. Finally, after a long moment, I sit up. “I really should be getting to work.”

“Oh…okay.”

Time to find out what kind of girl she is. Will she be clingy, pretending like we’re meant for more? Or will she accept this for what is was, a one-night stand?

I stand and wrap the sheet around my waist. I point down the hallway to a door. “There’s the bathroom if you’d like to clean up before you go.”

She nods before grabbing her clothes off the floor and covering herself as she makes her way down the hallway. I watch her walk away and close the door before I sit on the edge of the bed, holding my head in my hands. What the fuck am I doing?

I shake my head free from the thoughts and look up when as the door creaks open. She walks over to stand in front of me and turns her back to me, so I see the open zipper of her dress. Without being asked, I reach up and zip it up. She gives me this peak-a-boo look over her shoulder, fluttering her fake eyelashes at me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I say with a smile.

She walks around the bed to grab her shoes while I riffle around in my closet for some clothes for the day.

“I guess I should get out of here, so you can get to work.”

I turn with clothes in my arms. “Okay, well, thanks for the good time.” I motion toward the door. She gets the hint, letting out a puff of air before marching down the hall with me following after her.

She turns back with her hand on the knob. “I guess what they say is true.”

I lean against the wall. Here it comes. “What’s that?”

She looks me up and down. “That you’ll be the best lay of my life, but it won’t go any further or happen again despite how hard I try.”

I grin, I don’t mean to, but hearing that the women around town say I’m the best lay of their lives brings a smile to my face. I shrug. “Well, at least you can’t say you didn’t know what you were getting into.”

“You’re a jerk.” She twists the knob and throws open the door, knocking my guitar from its stand.

“Oh, don’t get pissed now! You knew what this was!” I yell after her.

I walk to the open front door and close it. Then I look down at the beat-up blue and black guitar.

Instead of bending down to pick it up, I turn and go into the bathroom to take a shower.

This is my life now. I wake up, kick out whatever girl I’ve brought home, shower, and head to work. I know this isn’t the life I was meant to lead, but what can I do? I’ll just keep hanging on, waiting for the day when she comes back. I don’t care if I have to wait for the rest of my life. I won’t ever give my heart to anyone else.

It’s only ever belonged to her.