I don’t care.
I’m in.
“Lead the way.”
She smiles up at me coyly like she’s about to offer me something entirely new. I doubt that, but what the hell?
I follow the nameless brunette into whatever the closest bar is without a cover charge, and she doesn’t even bother bringing me up to the bar for the ruse of a shared drink. No, this girl is all business. She throws her friends a wink and then takes my hand, leading me through the crowd of people toward the back.
She tries the handle on a broom closet, and when it opens, she throws me a devilish smile over her shoulder. She’s taller than Katie, probably closer to five-seven or eight. And she’s not built like Katie either. She’s leaner, more of a model-like build, which I don’t normally find all that attractive. I like curves. She has none, but like I said, I don’t really care all that much tonight.
We get into this small room, and the second the door shuts, I experience total sensory deprivation. I can’t see or hear anything except her breathing and mine.
She rubs up against me, running her hands up and down my chest.
She feels wrong. Too rough and overly aggressive. Her hair brushes against my nose and she smells wrong too. Like strong floral perfume.
Her hands run down my body, landing on the button and zipper of my jeans.
“You’re so sexy,” she breathes out, and I can’t stand her voice either. It’s sharp and feels fake, put-on. “The second I saw you, I knew I wanted you.”
I don’t respond, because suddenly she lowers herself to her knees and puts my cock in her mouth. My eyes shut instantly, trying to block out the pounding thoughts in my head.
My mind swirls, toxic and sick. My stomach churns, turning the remnants of my dinner into a corrosive poison in my gut.
Suddenly I can’t stand the feeling of her mouth on my dick.
I yank her up and off me, and she giggles. It’s annoying, and I can’t breathe, so I spin her around, sliding up her tiny skirt. She hasn’t kissed me or even tried. A small win because I know, I fucking know, I would not be able to stand that.
This is quick and dirty and she’s not complaining at all.
“Yes,” she pants out.
I blink against the blinding darkness, shaking my head back and forth. Focus. I can’t focus. I can’t have Katie and I need this. This nameless, faceless woman. If I screw her then…
I put the condom on and stare down at myself. At where I know my condom covered dick is.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Only it’s not okay. Nothing is okay and what the fuck am I doing right now?
She moans loudly, trying to egg me on. It’s the fakest sound I’ve ever heard. I’m not even touching her.
“Come on,” she bites out when I don’t move or speak. She inches her too-thin body back against me, bumping into my cock, and I grunt. But it’s not out of desire.
It’s out of disgust. With myself.
“I…”
“Just put it in me already. I need it hard and rough.”
“Shhh,” I snap. “Just give me a second.” She keeps going, saying something I’m no longer listening to, and I close my eyes again, trying to block her out.
And then I do the worst thing ever.
Something I’ve never done in all my time of random, meaningless sex.
I picture someone else.
I see Katie. Her sweet smile looking up at me. Those light-blue eyes—the color of the sky—gazing at me. Her perfect body beneath mine. The feel of her silky skin against my hands. Her smell. Her taste. Her sounds.
I’m picturing Katie instead of this girl. I want Katie. Not this girl. Not any other girl.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
“What?” she shrieks. “What the fuck does that mean?”
It means I’m done.
I rip the condom off, zip myself up, find the door, and walk away without another word. Straight out of the bar and into the humid night that offers me no solace.
I wander around aimlessly for god only knows how long, before I make myself go back to the hotel. For a hot second, I’m tempted to go and have another drink at the bar, but I don’t. Instead, I go right up to my room and take the longest hottest shower of my life, washing my body so many times that my skin is practically raw.
By the time I crawl into bed, I’m wrecked. It’s late and I’m tired.
Worst of all, I don’t know what I’m going to do.
I could pull away from Katie entirely. Become emotionally distant and save myself. But then her words from earlier tonight flit through my mind. She said I was special to her. That she felt like she was meant to meet me. I’m important to her.
And I know I can’t pull back.
So is it better to spend whatever time I have with her knowing that I’m only going to get hurt in the end?
Maybe.
Maybe I should just take what I can get with her and deal with the consequences when they happen. And they will happen. Of that I have no doubt. The thought of hurting her is worse than the thought of hurting myself.
I’ll ride this wave with her.
And when it’s over, I’ll completely wipe out.
10
Kate
* * *
We end up spending two days in New Orleans, walking around the city, riding the streetcars, eating and drinking way too much and having a good freaking time.
Originally, we had wanted to drive north up toward Chicago, and then west through the Badlands and Wyoming. But we both want to do Vegas, the Grand Canyon, and SoCal, so that first plan didn’t really make a lot of sense given our time constraints. If we had endless time, then sure, it would be game on.
So we did what we said we would not do.
We created an itinerary.
Our plan is to hit up Austin, then Dallas, drive through northern Texas and New Mexico until we get to the Grand Canyon. After that, it is Vegas, LA, somewhere along the coast, San Francisco and up the Pacific Coast Highway through the redwood forest all the way to Seattle.
All of that is to be done in the next fourteen to seventeen days max.
It’s ambitious since we both agreed that we want the majority of our time to be spent in California.
We set off for Austin bright and damn early since it is a long-ass drive and will take us all day. But as soon as we start out we change our plans and decide to head straight for Dallas, which makes more sense than stopping in Austin.
We realized pretty quickly that we wouldn’t get to enjoy the city at all, since we’d get in late and would have to set out again early. This drive is actually better anyway, as it takes us through actual towns in Louisiana, like Baton Rouge and Shreveport.
Today is October first and we have already been on the road nine days.
It’s hard to believe, but it’s true.
Ryan is scheduled to do a bunch of things in Seattle on the nineteenth and wants to be there for at least a full day before, so he’s not so rushed. Knowing there is a very real and looming expiration date on our little adventure sucks. I never thought I’d want to travel with anyone like this, especially a man I didn’t know, but now the thought of continuing on without him doesn’t feel possible.
So I have a new goal for this trip.
Find a place I want to live before we get to Seattle.