The bar at the Driskill hotel was busy on Friday night. I hadn’t been here in ages, years actually, but it looked the just the same. Since the place was built back in the eighteen hundreds I supposed it made sense that they wouldn’t feel pressured to frequently redecorate. Cole and I sipped lovely, fashionable cocktails in cushy armchairs and I felt ridiculously fancy.

In my teenage fantasies, Cole and I hadn’t talked as much as we did on our date. We were always busy doing… other things. Naked things, mostly. I found myself surprised by how much I enjoyed just talking to him.

It was even more than just enjoyment, too. I was voracious for information about him. Starved for it. I felt like I’d never get enough.

“Why did you move back to Austin?” I asked, thinking it would have been easy for him to go anywhere with the money he’d made in the NFL. Unexpectedly, he shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. He looked a little bit self-conscious about the decision. “I didn’t really think it through as much as I probably should have. It just seemed like a good idea to go where I had friends.” His smile seemed to hint that I was one of his friends, and it made me feel warm inside.

“Plus, you know where all the good bars are,” I offered.

“That too.”

“Did you end up calling Tiffany?” I probed, both because I was curious and because I felt like I needed to know that she wasn’t going to be a threat to me.

Cole nodded. “Yeah, but she won’t take me on as a client. I’m too indecisive about what I want, probably. She said she’d talk to the other agents in her office and that someone would be reaching out to me soon to look at places. Do you want to come look at properties with me next weekend?”

I blinked in surprise. “Really?” This wasn’t quite as good as when he’d offered to let me dress him up, but it was close.

He misinterpreted my shock for reluctance. “I mean, only if you want to…”

“I want to!” I said it so enthusiastically he laughed.

“It’s a date then,” he replied after a second. The heat was back in his eyes again, and I was starting to wonder where this night would end up. We were already at a hotel…

“Do you like working at the bar?” Cole asked, shattering my sexy daydream.

I thought about his question for a moment before answering.

“I guess so,” I told him with a shrug. “I mean, it’s not exactly my dream job, but I’m pretty good at it, the work isn’t difficult, and I make enough money to do the things I want to do.” There were a lot of people that didn’t have it as good as I did. Sure, I wasn’t a professional football player or anything, but I’d done well for a millennial. I didn’t have to wear a nametag at my job or sit in a cubicle. Was it perfect? No. But I knew I should be grateful for my opportunities, not resentful of them.

“What is your dream job, then?” Cole followed up. He seemed genuinely interested in the answer, and for some reason, I wanted to tell him the secret I didn’t even trust Ward with. The alcohol may have also contributed to my bravery.

“I want to run a boutique,” I whispered excitedly.

“What kind of boutique? Clothes?”

“No, Lingerie. You wouldn’t believe how many women are out there wearing ugly lingerie. Bras that doesn’t fit them. Shapewear that doesn’t flatter them. Hosiery that makes them uncomfortable instead of sexy. Victoria’s Secret is selling women trash. Horrible, cheaply made, overpriced trash. The right lingerie is more important than the right clothes, believe it or not. Well fitting, well-made foundations make a woman look ten years younger and twenty pounds lighter. I’m not even kidding. It does. And that says nothing of the struggle that some women have just finding their size. I want to make women look better in all their clothes, not just the clothes they buy from me. It should be a positive experience to buy lingerie, and my store will be inclusive of different styles, body types, and price ranges. I like the idea of selling people that sort of glamorous experience that people used to have when they went to their local department store. That they could walk in looking like one sort of person and walk out looking like their best self… it would be awesome!” I ended my monologue and instantly felt a hot flush creep over me. That was quite a pronouncement I’d just made.

Cole looked mystified by me. “You want to open a lingerie shop?” he asked. When I nodded, he smiled and shook his head. “That’s so you.” When I just continued to look at him wide-eyed, he added, “you should do it. It sounds cool.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “It’s just a dream. I won’t ever have the money to open a big store like that right off the bat, but I’ve put some money away and I’m saving. In a couple of years, I’ll hopefully be able to have a little shop somewhere. Everyone’s got to start somewhere, right? I don’t expect everything to happen overnight. I need to make sure the market can support it first.”

“If any market could support something like that, it would be Austin,” Cole said. I nodded.

“I think so too,” I told him. Looking around the Driskill bar right at that moment, I could see the women there shopping in my store. There was a brunette to my right that was wearing a lovely pair of clearly vintage, bright blue pumps. She was wearing fishnets, but she ought to be wearing a pair of silk stockings and a garter belt that complemented her 1940’s pin-up aesthetic better. She’d be more comfortable too. Sitting at the high-top tables to my left, a woman with blond to bubblegum pink ombre hair was carrying a new, trendy Fendi purse. I bet I could sell her a French lace negligee or fine damask boned corset. And of course, all women needed bras and panties. I knew it would work. I would make it work.

“If anyone could do this and find success, it would be you,” Cole told me. His confidence made me feel like I was more capable than I probably was, but I didn’t mind. It was nice to be validated.

“One day,” I said, smiling. “I’ll do it one day.”

“Have you thought about getting Ward to fund you?” Cole asked carefully.

I grimaced. “I don’t want to ask him for money.”

“What about getting investors or a business loan?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to owe money to anyone.” Student debt was the curse of our generation. There was no way I’d willingly go into debt. I didn’t even have a credit card. I was so paranoid about it that I paid for everything in cash.

“I get that,” Cole said, nodding. “After seeing so many NFL players wreck their lives after living beyond their incomes when they retire, I definitely understand.”

I’d seen what Ward went through when his NFL career ended before he wanted it to, and so I knew that Cole wasn’t kidding.

“I’m glad you retired on your own terms,” I told him. The idea of Cole suffering the sort of injury that my brother had endured was bad enough. But it was the psychological gut punch of losing both his livelihood, fiancée, and passion simultaneously had plunged Ward into a yearlong depression. When he came out of it, almost all that was left was his bar. We were both lucky that Willie and I had managed to keep it out of bankruptcy.

“Me too,” Cole said, and then paused. “I know it was the right decision, but I have to admit, I feel sort-of aimless now.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think I’m going to buy a car dealership,” he said, and then his lips parted in surprise. “You’re actually the first person I’ve told about that.” Those lips curved up into a smile. “But that’s what I think I’m going to do.”

“A car dealership?” I tried to picture Cole doing one of those terrible television commercials and failed. “What kind?”

“BMW. There’s a guy selling his franchise locations right now. He wants to retire, and I think I’m going to buy them.”

“More than one?”

“There are eight total. All in central Texas.”

“No financing, no problem! Call Cole and get in your sweet new ride today. Cole Rylander, BMW dealer. Rylander BMW,” I mused aloud while he watched me with an uncomfortable look on his face. “Can I have a free convertible?” I asked, and then immediately added, “just kidding.” I didn’t want him to think that I was only dating him for the free luxury vehicles. He just shook his head at me and laughed.

“Maybe I’ll barter you a nice lease on a new convertible if you’ll be the model in my ads,” he teased.

“Do I have to wear a bikini and lay all sexy-like on the hood?” I did my best, clothed impression of the pose in my armchair.

“Yes. Definitely,” he joked, framing me in ‘the shot’ with his fingers. “I want to go full Playboy Magazine with it.”

I arched an eyebrow, arching my back more and pushing out my tits. “Full Playboy? Wouldn’t that be, well, topless?”

His excited gaze dipped to my chest as if it were an involuntary reflex, and then back up to my face with embarrassment. “Um. Maybe not full Playboy. I don’t think Ward would be too pleased with that.”

I sighed at him. That comment totally ruined the moment. “Let’s not talk about my brother,” I pleaded, “he’s no fun. I want to have fun.”

He flashed his white smile at me. “Sorry. You’re right. I want to have fun too.”

A thought had begun pinging around in my head and the more of my drink that I sipped, the more it sounded like a good idea. “Maybe we should just go upstairs,” I said, looking around and locating the staircase on the other side of the hotel lobby. “If we both really want to have some fun.”

Cole didn’t seem like he knew what to say to my proposition. A number of different emotions crossed his face in quick succession. None of them stuck around long enough for me to figure out what they were or what they meant. Finally, his face settled on a carefully neutral, totally blank look. “I shouldn’t have bought you that third martini.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Please. I work in a bar. I drink more than this on a typical shift.” That was a lie. I never drank when I worked; that was beyond stupid—it would be irresponsible. Not only did I work with money, but I was responsible for the safety of our patrons. I could never live myself if someone left our bar and killed themselves or someone else because they were drunk. But at that moment, I wasn’t drunk. Tipsy, but not drunk. I reached out a hand and touched his, seeking heat and comfort, and finding it. “I know what I want.”

Cole examined my face carefully. He didn’t pull his hand away from underneath mine. If anything, he seemed to be considering my proposition with great interest and seriousness. “Don’t you think we should take things slow?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Why?” I’d never thought much of going slow. About anything, but especially about attraction. Life was short, right? Better to live it up while it lasted. “Carpe Diem,” I told Cole.

I leaned forward and kissed him like I missed him. Unlike our first kiss which had caught me by surprise, this time I could savor the sensations better: moving in closer to brush his lips with mine, touching the side of his neck with my palm, teasing his tongue with my own and having him steal my breath in return. My emotions swirled and coalesced into desire, pooling between my thighs and setting me alight with anticipation and need. I’d waited a long time for this, and I didn’t want to wait any more.

He pulled me closer and kissed the side of my neck, making me bite back a little moan. I tightened my grasp on him and breathed in his scent like the aphrodisiac it was. Was this even real? I wanted it to be real.

When he pulled back he looked ready to seize the day for a moment, but then his expression flickered, faltered, and hardened. “I think we should wait.”

“You don’t think it would be better to, you know, just get this out of our systems?” I asked, feeling lighter than air and dreamy. The persistent, needy ache between my legs was making me feel desperate. Maybe once we slept together, I’d be able to think clearly again.

Cole seemed like he was thinking clearly already, but not the way I wanted him to. He shook his head. “Trust me, I’d love to go rent a room with you. There’s no one more surprised that I’m saying this than me.” He paused, and I could almost see him change his mind and then change it back. His lips settled into a firmer line. “But I’m not sure this is a good idea yet. You don’t even want Ward to know about this date, but you want to go upstairs and sleep with me? I’m just not sure I feel comfortable with that. I don’t want to be your one-night stand. I don’t want you out of my system.”

My heart leapt and then fell and then leapt again. It was getting a workout. I hadn’t considered… that. I hadn’t considered things from his perspective. Cole didn’t want to be my secret. He wanted more. I swallowed my feelings and nodded. “Ok.” Although my body was aching for him, I still knew he was right. We wouldn’t benefit from rushing anything. I wasn’t a teenager any more. I could be mature if I tried really, really hard at it.

And if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t want him out of my system either. We didn’t go upstairs. Instead, Cole took me home, kissed me senseless at the door, and left. I caressed the petals on one of the daisies as I drank a glass of water before bed that night and found myself wondering if my system, such as it was, hadn’t already become hopelessly addicted to Cole. It was fun now, but I worried what would happen if my supply of him ever ran out. I’d (mostly) quit smoking cigarettes after college, but I knew withdrawal could be a real bitch.