CHAPTER 11
I’m well-fucked and exhausted, want to be tucked into my own bed, but the thought of driving home right now just makes my head hurt.
So what to do?
Gotta love Brooklyn.
There’s a place to sit and get a cup of coffee on almost every street corner.
I’m not in the mood for coffee. That kind of hit of caffeine isn’t what I’m seeking, so when the waitress arrives at my table, I ask for a cup of hot chocolate, hold the whipped cream. I’m almost on a diet, I argue with myself. She nods and is back in a moment with the steaming brew.
Taking a sip, I shut my eyes as the cocoa comfort washes over me. And then the guilt hits.
What am I doing? Who have I become?
I shake my head and sigh heavily. Maybe things will look better in the morning. Or, rather, when I wake up next.
Sure the sex is mind-blowing. Seriously, mind-blowing, but this isn’t exactly how I ever imagined earning a living. That reminds me. I open my handbag and look at the six one hundred dollar bills Michael gave me. What had he said? I’d earned every penny. I was amazing.
I shake my head again, take another sip of my cocoa and fold my arms on the table in front of me. It looks like a great pillow, so I rest my head on my arms. Everything hurts. My pussy, my body, my head, my heart, my brain.
I must have shut my eyes because the next thing I know is someone with a deep voice is asking if I’m alright. I hadn’t fallen asleep, but it must have looked like it.
I look up with bleary eyes and squint at the man standing in front of me. And then I gape at him. This guy is Chippendale’s hot. Abercrombie & Fitch hot. Come here to mama hot. I think I’ve become oversexed because arousal pools between my legs. I can’t possibly want more right now. But… just look at him!
The opposite of Michael, this guy’s hair is blond and expertly coiffed for that sexy “just out of bed” look, and his eyes are the bluest I’ve ever seen. So blue they sparkle. He’s so bright and sunshiny, I want to put on sunglasses. His face is flawless with high cheekbones and an overall boyish, approachable appearance.
Wearing shorts and a t-shirt, it’s easy to see how lean and hard his body is. He’s in shape. He must spend every day at the gym. I foolishly start wondering why he’s not there right now. But he’s not overly bulky. He’s swimmer’s body is perfection. Surfer dude pretty. I can just imagine him hanging ten. He clears his throat and smiles, and I realize that I’ve been staring gape jawed at him without answering. His smile seems to hypnotize me, and I stare for another beat before gathering my wits. He’s just that handsome.
“I’m fine. Just tired. Thanks for checking.”
“No problem. I just wanted to be sure. Better safe than sorry, you know?”
Is that a rhetorical question or does he expect an answer? I really am tired and stunned by his blinding good looks. I’ve been in a drought for a long time, and now it’s suddenly pouring. “Thanks. Like I said, I’m just tired.”
“Sure, I hear you.” But he continues standing there. Do I look so bad he’s that concerned? “I’m Scott, by the way.”
“Kim,” I say automatically. I was raised right, not that my mama would think so right now. “Nice to meet you.”
He beams a smile and motions to the chair across from me. “Mind if I join you?”
I look around the diner thinking he must suddenly be talking to someone else. But it’s just me in the vicinity. “Are you a serial killer?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “No, ma’am, I promise.”
“Wouldn’t a serial killer give me the same answer?” Banter? Where is this banter coming from?
Who am I?
Yes, I’m tired, but what I’ve been doing with Michael makes me feel powerful. Secure. Maybe even confident. And the banter is coming naturally. Go me.
He chuckles and shrugs. “Well, I guess you got me. But it might be better if I joined you rather than waiting for you around the corner?” I just stare at him in awe. His teeth are so white, and his eyes are so blue. “Hey, sorry. You know I was joking, I hope.”
I laugh at the genuine concern on his face, and his smile relaxes. I nod to the empty chair. “Sure, why not?”
He eases into the chair and wags a finger at me. “You had me for a minute. I thought I’d really frightened you. I didn’t mean to, you know.”
“I know.” I smile back at him. “Like I said, just tired. My brain’s having trouble giving directions to my mouth.” I shrug and take a sip of my cooling hot chocolate.
He nods. “You work nights?”
I nearly spit cocoa all over the table but choke it down just in time. Work nights. Yeah, I guess you could say that. “Ah, no. Was just visiting a friend. We stayed up all night talking.”
“Sounds like fun.” He motions to the waitress, and she arrives in a moment with a check.
I blink at her, then at him. “You don’t have to do that.”
Scott smiles at me then at the waitress, and she hands him another check. What? “The first check was mine,” he explains. “I was drinking coffee over there when I saw you.” He indicates another table. “The second check is yours. And, I insist. A dollar fifty isn’t going to break me, I guarantee you, Kim.”
I like the way he says my name and I giggle a bit in embarrassment. What the hell am I? Fifteen? “Well, alright. Thank you.” I take a couple of long sips of my hot chocolate and grimace. It’s cooled too much to be tasty. Setting the cup down, I stand. “Well, it was nice meeting you. Thanks for the drink.”
“Sure, anytime.” He stands too. “Let me walk you out?”
I blink at him. He’s such a gentleman. I’m not used to this. “Well, my car is just down the block.”
“Great, then I’ll walk you to your car.” He favors me with another one of his supernova smiles and I just nod and head to the exit. He leaves a few dollars on the table and follows me out onto the street. “I thought you might work nights because I’m just coming off my shift, so I guess it was a natural assumption.”
I’m walking down the street with a god from Olympus, and I imagine that everyone is staring. Go on, stare. You’re all just jealous. And me? I think I’m dreaming. Wait. Did he just say something? Should I be answering? Is he waiting for me to say something again? He’s going to think I’m slow. Okay, think. Something about his job. “What do you do?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I’m a cop,” he says nonchalantly.
My brain cells freeze.
Oh my god. He’s going to arrest me! He knows what I’ve been doing with Michael! “Seriously? A cop?” I squeak at him.
He nods. “Yep.” He leans in closer as if to speak conspiratorially. “I get that reaction a lot. No one believes me.” He chuckles. “Not even my parents. I’m a first-generation police officer.”
He’s close enough to smell, and he smells good. I expect the ocean from him, like Michael. But this surfer dude smells… well, just clean… like soap. It’s nice. “Did you just take a shower?” I find myself blurting out.
A deep laugh that comes from the belly erupts from Scott, and I smile in return, certain that my cheeks are flaming red. “That was random,” he teases. “But, yes. I told you. I just got off shift. My precinct’s just a few blocks down that way.” He points up the street. “Wait. I don’t smell bad, do I?” He puts on a mock expression of horror and sniffs under each armpit. “No, I don’t smell anything.”
I’m laughing now too. “No, you’re safe. I don’t know why I said that.” We’ve arrived at my car, and I pull my keys from my handbag. “Well, this is mine.” I unlock the driver’s side door.
His hand is on the door handle in a flash. “Allow me.” He opens the door, and I fumble out a thank you. “Don’t mention it,” he says, then looks at me with a serious expression. “Are you sure you’re alright to drive?”
I smile at his concern. “Yes, I’m not that tired. Really.”
“Well, okay.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a cell phone. “I’d like to know you got home safe and sound, though. Give me your phone number so I can call and make sure.”
What is happening? He wants my phone number? When does this ever really happen?
I recite the digits to him as he programs them into his phone. He really is throwing me for a loop at every turn. I get into my car and look up at him as I start the engine. He’s still smiling down at me.
“Drive safe, Kim. It was nice meeting you.” He stands there watching until I drive away.
What the hell just happened?
This never happens to me. Maybe things are finally starting to go my way. I have an income, and as long as I don’t think too much about how I’m earning that income, it’s okay. Then there’s Michael, who I like, have fun with, and who gives me the most amazing orgasms of my life. And now this. Scott. Chasing me. This might turn out to be one hell of a great summer.
My half smile turns into an enormous yawn, and I realize I should concentrate on the road instead of my luck.