Before Jill walked into the bar, she stood for a moment, finishing her tea and summoning up her nerve.

She wasn’t good at dating. She wasn’t good with men. She liked people in general, but when it came to romance, she became all stiff and awkward. She’d kind of fallen into the relationship with Ted during her senior year of college. She’d hoped something similar might happen to her again, but it hadn’t.

If she wanted a man, she had to go out and get one.

Squaring her shoulders, she tossed her cup into a trash can before she walked into the bar.

It wasn’t very crowded—since this was Spring Break week at Virginia Tech so most of the students had left town. There were a few couples scattered around. One group of young women. A middle-aged man sitting alone at a table. And a younger man sitting at the bar.

She was quite sure neither of the men sitting alone were the ones she’d arranged to meet. One was way too old and the other was way too good-looking.

In her limited experience with dating, people usually didn’t end up looking far better than their pictures, and the guy at the bar was what she’d always considered typical-handsome. He had the kind of clean-cut features and lean, strong body that a majority of people found at least somewhat attractive. Even his clothes were typical—worn jeans and a long-sleeve gray shirt. The guy she’d arranged was more like her—cute in a quirky, unique way.

She walked up to the bar and drop her bag on the floor so she could heft herself up on the stool. She was very short, and it wasn’t easy. Her skirt slid up much farther than was appropriate.

As she awkwardly tried to tug it back down, the good-looking guy at the bar glanced over at her, giving her a quick once-over or maybe figuring out what her gyrations were about.

He was even better looking than she’d originally thought. Very, very good-looking. Not her type at all, but still…

Although she found the guy’s slight five o’clock shadow, green eyes, and thin intelligent mouth incredibly sexy, she was quite sure he wasn’t her date for tonight.

When she managed to get her skirt back in place, she gave the guy a quick smile, since he’d obviously seen her checking him out. “You try getting up on one of these stools when you’re my height,” she said lightly, trying not to feel embarrassed about her skirt debacle the way she was tempted to.

He chuckled and sipped his drink. It looked like whiskey. “I wouldn’t even want to try.”

She pulled out her phone so he wouldn’t think she was looking for a conversation. No messages from her date. It was five minutes after they’d planned to meet, but maybe he was one of those people who were always late.

That wouldn’t be a good match for her.

She wasn’t too fond of chronic lateness.

When the bartender came over, she asked for a glass of rosé, since she didn’t want to just sit around doing nothing as she waited.

She glanced over at the handsome guy and saw he was slanting her a look. There was a very clear glint of amusement in his green eyes.

“Are you laughing about my ordering rosé?” she asked. There was no particular reason for her to suspect that this was what had prompted his amusement, but she did suspect.

Evidently she was correct. He chuckled again—a warm, husky sound that was far too sexy to be entirely fair. “It’s very pink, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s pink. It’s pretty, and I like how it tastes. Rosé gets a bad rap because of guys like you. I could be equally patronizing about that ugly, disgusting stuff in your glass, but I’m not usually an asshole that way.”

“It’s not disgusting,” he said, his lips twitching irrepressibly as he took a swallow of his whiskey. “This is the good stuff.”

“I think even the good stuff is undrinkable, and I guarantee most people wouldn’t drink it at all if they hadn’t been indoctrinated that it was supposed to be good. You can follow the herd and convince yourself you like it all you want. I’m not convinced.” She didn’t know why she was talking like this with a stranger. She was normally pretty quiet with people she didn’t know.

But the guy looked like he was enjoying the conversation, and it was taking her mind off of meeting her date.

“I guess you don’t follow the herd much, do you?” His eyes were running up and down her body again, lingering on her thighs above her boots and her cleavage.

Her body was small and curvy—not particularly thin but firm and compact. It was clear he liked how she looked, and she couldn’t help but shiver with pleasure at the knowledge.

“I follow the herd if the herd is going somewhere I want to be,” she told him honestly. “If it’s not, then I let it go on by.”

He gave a slow nod. “That’s a good philosophy.”

They fell into silence as they sipped their drinks, and after a minute Jill glanced down at her phone again. Still no message. And now the guy was very late.

Her hopes for the evening were falling quick.

“Are you meeting someone?”

“I’m supposed to be,” she said. “You’re not here to meet someone, are you?” The question was mostly casual, since she was still sure he wasn’t her date.

He shook his head. “Just killing time. I’m at the hotel next door.”

Most of the hotels in and around Blacksburg were chains, but there was one boutique hotel downtown. That must be where he was staying. “You in town on business?”

“Something like that.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of that answer, but she didn’t pursue the topic. If he didn’t want to tell her why he was visiting Blacksburg, then that was his concern.

“How late is your date?” he asked.

“Almost fifteen minutes now.”

“How long will you give him?”

“I’m about to give up.”

“Were you excited about him?”

“Eh,” she said with a little shrug. “I’d only connected with him for about a week. I’m not excited enough about him to wait more than twenty minutes.”

“Was it one of those dating apps?” the guy asked.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Maybe he got a look at me and left.”

“No chance.” His eyes were warm and admiring again. It was very clear he liked how she looked.

She wasn’t used to men being quite so open about that kind of interest—mostly because she usually hung out with nerdy types, many of whom were socially awkward like she was. It was a heady feeling—this gorgeous guy liking how she looked so much. Certainly not something that happened to her on a regular basis.

She glanced down at her phone again and then around at the bar, but no one new had come in. “This was the first time meeting someone too. Not a good start.”

“If he was going to stand you up, it’s just as well.”

“Yeah.” She shook her head. “Story of my life.”

“What is?”

“What is what?”

“What’s the story of your life?”

“Finally getting the courage up to take a chance and having it blow up in my face.”

He chuckled, sliding off his stool and moving two over so he was sitting on the one directly beside her. “I need more detail than that to fully assess your situation.”

She blinked. “More detail about what?”

“The story of your life. Tell me about it.” He was still relaxed, amused, slightly teasing. He was clearly having a good time, without any particular investment in this conversation other than leisurely interest.

Because his attitude was so clearly casual, she felt perfectly comfortable talking to him. She was here, with half a glass of wine still to drink. She might as well pass the time in an interesting way. “Well, I’m twenty-six years old, and I’ve only had one serious boyfriend.”

“That’s interesting,” he murmured, his eyes focused on her face. “But you’ve skipped too much information. Start from the beginning. What were your parents like?”

“I never knew my dad. And my mom…” She let out a huff of laughter.

“What about your mom?”

With a quirk of her lips, she picked up her phone again and searched quickly through the pictures until she’d reached the one she wanted. She passed it over to the guy beside her.

The picture was of her and her mother about fifteen years ago. Her mother wore a broomstick skirt, a loose tank top, and very long, unbrushed hair. Her skin was very tanned, and a guitar was leaning against her leg. Jill was in the picture too—blonde and serious and wearing a little pink sundress. Both of them were standing in front of a run-down RV.

“Wow,” the man said, after studying the photo.

“She’s basically an old hippie. She was forty-five when she had me, and she was still wandering the country in her camper, going to concerts and craft fairs and local festivals. We lived in that RV for my entire childhood, and we never stayed anywhere more than two months.”

“How did you go to school?”

“She taught me. She’s really smart, and I had the equivalent of a high school education by the time I was fifteen. But the only other kids I knew were the ones we happened to run into and a few on the same circuits my mother traveled in.”

“No wonder you’ve only had one boyfriend,” he said, looking genuinely intrigued. “Was it lonely?”

“Sometimes. I love my mother. I always have. And we talked to people everywhere we went. It’s not like I wasn’t around people. I just never had a real community until I started to connect with people online when I was a teenager. The friends I had online—through games and message boards and fan communities and such—those were the closest friends I’d ever had.”

“Did you go to college?”

“Yeah. In California. It was so strange to be in one place for so long, but I really loved it. And that was where I met my boyfriend, right before I graduated.”

“How did you end up in Blacksburg?”

Jill made a face, realizing now that she’d have to admit something that still embarrassed her. “Ted, my boyfriend, got a job here. So I moved with him.”

“What about a job for you?”

“I took a job so I could telecommute. It wasn’t the job I wanted, but it was decent enough. And I could do it from anywhere. He was going to grad school here, so… I came with him.”

“And he dumped you?”

She nodded, staring down at her wine glass. “Only after I supported him financially through his grad program.”

“Shit,” the man breathed, shaking his head. “What a jackass.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think he was, of course. And I’m pretty sure he didn’t do it on purpose—just use me to live off of while he finished school. But still… I feel pretty stupid about it.”

“Were there any signs?”

No one had ever asked her something like that before, and she had to think before she answered. “I… I don’t know. He was always very sweet with me. He did nice things and gave me a lot of compliments. But, when I think back, there was a lot of just assuming I’d do whatever he wanted to do. Of course, I’d moved for him—without any sort of commitment. We’d only been dating six months at that point. Why wouldn’t he assume that I’d just go along with whatever worked best for him.”

The guy had leaned forward, as if he were listening intently. But at this he shook his head again. “It sounds like you’re being too hard on yourself. You spent your whole childhood moving from place to place, never putting down any roots. It’s not surprising that when you thought you had a chance to settle down with someone you loved, you’d take it, even if it meant moving all the way across the country.”

She reflected on those words, relaxing slightly as they registered. Maybe he was right. Maybe she wasn’t as much of an idiot about Ted as she felt most of the time.

“You didn’t want to move back to California?”

“No. Despite the whole Ted debacle, I actually love it here. I made friends—better friends that I’ve ever had before in real life. After I broke up with Ted, I moved in with my two best friends. One of them ended up moving out last year, but she’s still in town. I really like it here. I don’t want to leave. And I got a new job with a company in town, so I plan to stay here for the foreseeable future. I want roots. I want to build the kind of life I want for myself instead of always trailing around in other people’s wakes. I found a job I wanted. I’d also like to find a man. That’s why I did that dating app thing. I wanted to take some… concrete steps to get what I want in life.”

“Sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” he said, propping his elbow on the bar and leaning his head on his hand. “Although you know you can have a man without having a boyfriend.”

She frowned. “Excuse me?”

He arched his eyebrows.

She couldn’t help but giggle at his teasing leer. No man had the right to be quite so sexy. “I can have sex, you mean.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Have sex?”

“Sex without a relationship.”

“Yes.” He raised his glass to swallow down the last of his whiskey. Then he gestured to the bartender to refill his glass and hers.

“Is that all you ever have?”

“Yeah. I’m not into commitments anymore.”

“Were you at one time?”

“I was.”

She glanced at her phone one more time and saw that her date was thirty minutes late. There was no way she was interested in hooking up with him now, when he hadn’t even sent her a message about not showing up. She slid her phone into her bag and accepted the new glass of wine the bartender had poured. “All right. So what’s the story of your life then?”

He adjusted on his stool, hesitating for a moment. Then he pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture the way she had earlier. He handed it to her. “I’m from Des Moines. This is my family.”

She studied the screen of his phone, processing the twenty or so people gathered into the frame. She saw him right away, in the backrow on the side. There looked to be parents and grandparents and siblings and children.

“How big is your family?”

“I have two brothers and a sister. They’re all married, and they all have kids. I’m the youngest.”

“And you’re not married?”

“No.”

“And you have no kids.”

“No.”

“What do they think of you?”

“They’ve decided I’m on some sort of early mid-life crisis.”

“Mid-life crisis? How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Twenty-nine! Why do they think it’s a mid-life crisis?”

“Because I spent most of my life doing what everyone else did. Following the herd, like you said. I played sports and got good grades in school. I went to a local university. I got a good, boring job.”

“What job?”

His mouth twisted slightly and he didn’t answer.

Genuinely fascinated now, she didn’t even think about potentially being rude or pushy. She simply wanted to know more. “What job?”

“CPA. I was an accountant. I got a good job, bought a house in the same neighborhood as my parents, found a woman I thought I liked and asked her to marry me. My life was… vanilla. For a years and years. Nothing but vanilla. I did what everyone expected me to do. I followed all the rules. And then…”

“Then what?” she breathed, leaning toward him.

“Then… bam.”

She blinked. “What was the bam?”

He shook his head, looking away from her for the first time. “Sometimes it feels like something happens that proves to you that the world you’re living in isn’t the world you want. It… changes everything.”

“What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. It changed everything. I didn’t want my job, so I quit. I didn’t want my house, so I sold it. My fiancée didn’t want the man I was turning into, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her anyway, so we broke up. I moved. I started to live my life differently—not doing what anyone expects me to do, just doing what I feel like at any given moment.”

“You have to support yourself somehow, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Sure. I have a lot of savings from years of being a good boy, and I’ll still do some work around tax time. But…” He gave his head another one of those little shakes, like he was trying to brush something out of his mind. “I’m not going to go into an office every day. And I’m not going to make promises to women that I’m not sure I can follow through on.  I’m just going to… do what I want.”

“Wow,” she breathed, thinking through his story and wondering what had happened to him to make such a dramatic change in his life. It was clear he wasn’t going to tell her, and she wasn’t in any position to nag him about it—although she still really wanted to know. “I guess we’re kind of in opposite motion then.”

“In what way?”

“I’m looking for roots, for stability. And you’re trying to get away from them.”

“Yeah. That’s exactly right.” He held her eyes for a long time, and it was one of those strange moments of bonding that hit you unexpectedly—when all of a sudden you catch a glimpse of someone else’s soul. It moved her, took her breath away.

It must have hit him that way too. Or something similar. Because he reached out and put his hand lightly over hers, which was resting on the bar. His finger tips very lightly stroked over her knuckles, and the little touch sent intense shivers all through her body.

“Maybe you should try it,” he murmured, a husky texture in his voice was that was new.

“Try what?”

“Living for the moment, doing what you want. Just for the night.”

Her lips parted. “Are you…”

“I am.”

“You’re suggesting…”

“I’m suggesting.”

“You want us to…”

He leaned closer to her, his green eyes deep and mesmerizing. “Yes, I want us to. But only if you want to too. What do you say? Try to have some fun just for the night.”

Never would she have considered going to bed with a man she’d just met like this. She didn’t even know his name.

But she felt strangely close to him, and he was the sexiest person she’d ever met in her life.

And she wanted to do something different, something just for her.

His mouth quirked irresistibly just then. “Unless you want to sit around and wait to see if your date is going to show up.”

“No. I’m not going to wait for him.” She hesitated, and she appreciated the fact that he backed off, waiting for her to make her decision.

She wanted a stable, rooted, settled life, but she also wanted to have fun occasionally.

Why couldn’t she branch out a little—do something wild and spontaneous? She wasn’t likely to ever meet a man she wanted as much as she wanted this one. She couldn’t even imagine anyone as sexy as him.

“All right,” she said at last. “Why not?”

***

You can find out more about Living with Her One-Night Stand .