Kady

 

Drinking when you’re upset, especially over a guy, is never a good idea. Either is drinking shots of Grappa.

If you’ve ever drank this strong, corrosive liquor, you know that it tastes like cat piss. It’s horrible. I have no idea how the Italians can drink this shit on the reg.

The only plus side is that after only one shot of the stuff you feel like the weight of the world has been lifted. And right now, everything in my life is looking pretty damn good.

The buzz I have going on is from the Grappa, an Aperol spritz and now a glass of red wine that I’ve had over the last hour and a half. I’m sure I’ll regret all of this in the morning, but until then, you only live once, right?

No amount of alcohol, however, will stop me from regretting what happened earlier in the bathroom with Gavin – or Monk, as I’m now referring to him in my head. I mean, seriously. What straight guy walks away from a horny, sober girl who practically begs for it?

Only a monk, that’s who.

Gavin’s rejection and subsequent departure sent me in a tailspin. I was seething over his brushoff. Once I calmed my anger down, I then felt incredibly embarrassed by my actions. My sexually explicit actions.

I can’t remember ever being denied by a guy when I offered something up. It just doesn’t happen. That sounds egotistical – and maybe it is to some extent – but collecting men and their affections has been my super power.

When I realized I could gain boys’ attention through my looks and kittenish behavior, I used that to my advantage. I love the surge of power I get when I can turn a guy on with just a look, a flip of the hair or a sway of my hips. Maybe that’s the definition of a slut or a tramp, I don’t know. I’d never classify myself in that way.

I’m not easy, I just know I’m a sexual being. I simply have a healthy sexual appetite and an appreciation for the male species. Unfortunately, there is this thing known in polite society as a double-standard. And you’re looking at her. If I were a guy who enjoyed getting with girls, without establishing relationships, it’d be no biggie. I’d just be “sowing my wild oats.”

But I’m a girl, which means the word slut has been thrown my way so many times behind my back, I might as well have it tattooed there.

I wonder if that’s why Gavin doesn’t want to be with me. Maybe he thinks my behavior is too overtly sexual.

The dude baffles the hell out of me. I’d joked earlier with Kylah that I thought he could be gay. Maybe I have misread the attraction I feel and I’m barking up the wrong tree. I suppose there’s a slight possibility he’s gay. I hear a lot of gay guys in sports choose to hide it and not come out because of the repercussions and damage it can have on their career. And the horrible locker room treatment they receive.

But based on his dick’s eager reaction to me on several occasions, the chances are slim. I think he is attracted to me but is hesitant for some reason. I just don’t know what it is.

Gavin didn’t return home after my little show in the bathroom. I was so confused by his departure that I stood staring in the bathroom mirror questioning everything I knew about myself. I guess there’s a chance that I came on too strong. If he is into girls, maybe he likes them more submissive.

Or hells bells, maybe he has a girlfriend back home and he’s trying to be faithful. Shit, I hadn’t even thought to ask. That seems to make the most sense. I’ll be sure to ask him, if he ever shows up tonight.

An hour after he left, he sent me a text with the address of the club where we were to meet his friend Luca tonight. Gavin mentioned it was just a few blocks away and told me to go on without him, he’d meet us there. I was instructed to go in, find Luca and start a tab.

So that’s exactly what I did. After getting ready, I resolved to put all that weirdness behind me. When Gavin and I meet up again later, I’ll pretend nothing happened. I’ll ask him about his girlfriend and why he failed to mention her to me. All this uncomfortable tip-toeing around each other could have been avoided if he’d just been up front with me.

While waiting for Gavin to arrive, I’ve been enjoying myself with Luca. We hadn’t met yet, but he was pretty easy to spot in the club.

Luca is a tall and gorgeous Italian man, with a delicious accent, dark hair who wears a lot of cologne. Men all over Italy like their cologne concoctions. They must go through hundreds of bottles a year. It reminds me of Jordan Bailey in the eighth grade and his Axe body spray obsession. I had to hold my breath every time we made out because the smell was so obnoxious.

It makes me miss Gavin’s light, masculine scent. It’s a subtle hint of smoky, spicy cologne and fresh soap. That’s it. And the scent drives me wild. I want to rub my nose in the crook of his neck and never come up for air.

Within ten minutes of meeting Luca, I found that we have matching personalities and are two peas in a pod. We’re both huge flirts and enjoy the opposite sex. We hit it off immediately, but in a sibling fashion. There was no sizzle and zap with Luca that I feel around Gavin.

Luca’s gaze has constantly wandered and meandered greedily around the club, latching on to every beautiful woman in the room. Anytime a hot woman passes our table, his dark eyes veer in her direction, his attention drawn to her beauty and physical assets.

At first it was super annoying and distracting, and I wanted to grab his face to return his attention back to me. Hello! I’m right here, asshole.

After I had a few drinks in me, it became almost comical, so I decided to help him in his search for the perfect woman.

I’m looking around the room and notice a potential for him. “Ooh la la, one coming our way at your two o’clock. And she has you in her sights, Romeo.”

Luca’s head snaps to his left and I laugh, reaching out to grip his chin and turning him in the opposite direction.

“I said your two o’clock, not mine,” I snort.

We’ve learned a lot about one another in the last hour together. Luca’s easy to talk to and has mastered the English language. His accent is thick and sexy when he rolls his R’s and enunciates with his beautiful lilt.

Luca is quite the man. I’ve learned that he’s on the same team as Gavin, the Firenze Fury, and grew up north of Florence in the Tuscany countryside. He’s twenty-five, but looks much older to me because of his dark features. He also informed me that he has a fiancée waiting for him back in his hometown.

Most people upon learning this little tidbit would flap their gums with indignation, especially after seeing his actions in the club. But I don’t judge. He explained that it’s somewhat of an arranged marriage between his family and hers. A merger, if you will. She’s much younger than he is and it’s assumed that he’ll go do his thing before they settle down. To each his or her own, I say.

This reminds me of Ainsley’s friend, Mica Reyes, back home in Phoenix. From what I know, Mica’s hand has supposedly been offered up to her father’s boss or something crazy like that. I had no idea those types of things still happened.

While the topic of marriage is foreign to me, so is the absurdity of not marrying for love. I thought I was in love once, my senior year in high school, but it was just temporary blindness. Blinded by lust and youth.

Luca tips his head in appreciation at the woman who slinks by our table, giving him a not-so-subtle once over as she produces an exaggerated sway of her hips.

“Si. Bella,” he confirms, winking at her before he returns his gaze to me across the small table. “And you are very beautiful, as well, Kadence. Gavin is a fool to leave you alone, unclaimed.”

I’ve just taken a sip of my wine and laugh so hard that the contents bubble up and out my nose.

Luca leans over the table and wipes away the remnants from my chin. I smile and shrug. “I don’t think he’s in to me.”

The corners of his full mouth edge upward into a sexy smile as he brushes his fingers sensually across my cheek.

“Hm. I do not find that to be the case. Not by the way he stares at you now, bella donna. I think you are very mistaken.”

Luca tips his head to gesture behind me and I turn and glance over my shoulder, my body swaying unbalanced in my seat. My vision may be a bit blurry from the alcohol I’ve ingested, but I know exactly what I see when I look at him.

Gavin stands across the crowded room from us, his eyes fixed on me. His eyes are so dark – deep pools of blackness – like a summer storm brewing. I can see he’s conflicted. Or jealous. Or just plain irritated with me. I can’t quite read his expression, but Luca chuckles.

“Our friend at last has arrived,” he remarks, casually leaning back in his chair, and lifting his drink in Gavin’s direction. “And it appears he has reached a conclusion.”

Earlier, Luca inquired as to Gavin’s whereabouts. Within ten minutes of meeting him and a few drinks, my lips loosened and I unloaded the entire sordid story to Luca, leaving nothing out.

Surprisingly, Luca, roving eyes and all, happens to be a great listener. He didn’t try to interrupt once while I babbled on about how I made a complete fool of myself. He just smiled and nodded, offering me comfort by patting my hands with empathy.

I roll my eyes as I turn back to Luca, his expression full of amusement, and take another sip of my wine. Within a minute, Gavin is behind me. I can feel his body heat and catch a whiff of his scent. Smoky and clean.

Closing my eyes to calm myself down, I inhale deeply, but refuse to give in and look at him. When I open them again, Gavin is seated to my left between Luca and myself.

“Buona sera. Sorry I’m late,” Gavin says softly, looking between us with a curious glance.

Luca bumps his fist with Gavin’s. “Non c’e una problema, my friend. It has given me time with your bella amica, Kadence. She is very interesting, non? And very beautiful.”

I catch the devious smirk curled up on Luca’s face as he brings his beer glass to his lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Gavin has no idea what’s going on and gives Luca a pointed look, before bouncing his gaze between us like we’re players in a ping-pong match.

“Yes, she is. She’s also dangerous.” He narrows his gaze on me.

His comment surprises me. Luca waves a hand in the air with a flourish. “Ah, how do you say in America? YOLO?” He laughs at his attempt to use the Americanized acronym.

I clink his glass with mine in acknowledgment. “Exactly! Here’s to having the time of my life and living large. Thanks to Gavin.”

I give him a wink and bump his shoulder playfully. His expression changes to mildly confused.

He shouldn’t be. Regardless of the weirdness between us earlier, and that he left me high and dry, Gavin has been nothing but gracious toward me. He’s thoughtful. Helpful. Not to mention easy on the eyes. A girl couldn’t ask for more than that in a host.

He waves me off with a huff. “I haven’t done anything, just given you a place to stay. You’re the one who takes life by the horns. You’d have found a way with or without me.”

There’s a reverence in his voice, so it must be a compliment. The fact that he’s being nice to me right now is a testament to who he is. Two hours ago, he walked out of his own house because I came on too strong and overstepped my welcome in his home.

Gavin’s too nice for the likes of me, but I still want to be with him. Someone looking at just his exterior features would draw the conclusion that he’s a tatted up bad boy with a reputation. But get to know him and peel back the layers, you find he’s a softie with a heart of gold. And a gentleman to boot. One who may or may not have a girlfriend.

“Gavin, I don’t know what I would’ve done had you not come to my rescue. I know I have a terrible way of showing it,” I argue sweetly, patting his hand that’s on the table. I hope he understands that I’m trying to apologize for my immaturity earlier. “You’ve been my Knight in Shining Armor. And, on top of all that, you’ve agreed to be my tour guide tomorrow.”

Luca’s caterpillar eyebrows quirk up in interest. “Dove?”

Gavin gives a half shrug. “Yeah, figured since we have two more days between games, I’d take Kady down to Rome. Or up to Switzerland. Don’t know yet. Show her around. Make sure she’s safe.”

He takes a swallow of his beer, his eyes shifting to the side like he’s guilty of something. Of what, I’m not sure. When he realizes that his mug is empty, Gavin stands briskly and asks us if we want anything from the bar. I seriously consider ordering another wine, but decide against it. My buzz is strong enough.

“Just a Coke for me, please.”

Luca gives him the sign for another with a hoist of his glass in the air.

“Be right back,” Gavin says, and quickly amends his statement as he speaks pointedly to Luca. “Keep your hands off.”

I laugh when Luca’s eyes widen with feigned innocence as Gavin strides off toward the bar.

My gaze doesn’t leave him as I watch him weave through cloisters of people all chattering and dancing. A few people recognize him and stop to give him a pat on the back or their telephone number. Because of my brother’s celebrity when he was in college, I’m used to fans forgetting about personal boundaries when they meet a celeb.

Luca taps his chin with his finger. “Are you certain he’s not into you, amica?”

I draw my eyes back to him, his smooth, olive skin shining underneath the lights of the club. “Your guess is as good as mine,” I muse, lifting my hands in befuddlement. “I have no idea what’s going on with him right now. He’s so hot and cold.”

Luca and I continue our conversation while we wait for Gavin to return.

All the while, I wonder about Gavin. He’s so different than any other guy I’ve been with. I’ve never been such a failure at reading a guy’s intentions. I’m worried I’ve pushed him away for good. I decide to taper things back, just as I’ve done with my alcohol intake, to see if it offers him room to make a move. Which I hope he does.

There’s more than one way to skin a cat, as they say. Then again, maybe another tactic is needed altogether. Maybe Gavin needs a little nudge by witnessing how in demand I am. Get him interested by getting others interested in me. I’ve seen his possessive stares. Saw it a bit ago when he stared wildly at me from afar, his eyes dark with intensity.

If I can capitalize on those possessive urges, maybe he’ll drag me out of here by the end of the night like a caveman and have his way with me.

I can only hope.