A Week in New York(10)
“But don’t you think it’s amazing how you bumped into each other, like, just hours after you left him? It’s like fate bringing you together or something.”
It was weird how we bumped into each other. And there was none of that post-casual sex awkwardness. I supposed he had had lots of practice.
“Leah, I’m going to have to kill you or throw up on you unless you stop talking.”
Ethan and Andrew had just left.
“Excuse me.” I gestured to the waitress. “Please can we have the check?”
“The check has been paid, ma’am. Mr. Scott said you can order anything you like. Can I bring you something else?”
Mr. Scott. Mr. Scott.
“Ma’am?”
“Oh. Nothing. Thanks.”
Leah was grinning at me like the cat that got the cream.
“Right, let’s go and get in bed and watch movies,” I said, ignoring her grin.
“And he knew you were quoting Pretty Woman when you were on about the broccoli thing.”
“Shut up, Leah.” I’d caught that, too. It was cute.
“He’s, like, your perfect match.”
“Shut up, Leah.”
“He’s very sexy.”
He was. I pushed my lips together to stop myself from smiling. “If I hear another word out of you about it I’m going to change my flights and go home.” I shifted out the booth and then we were in the oppressive heat.
“Let’s get a cab back to Daniel’s,” I said, holding out my arm.
“Ok, just one more thing, and then I’ll shut up.” I didn’t say anything. “I saw you give him your phone. Did he give you his number?”
I shrugged as I moved toward the cab that had pulled in.
“Is that a yes?”
“I’ve not looked. I guess he did.”
“And did he ask you out again?”
Had he? I couldn’t remember. He’d said something. His touch had been distracting. I could still feel him between my legs.
I shrugged again. “I can’t remember.”
“You can’t remember if someone who looks like that asked you out?” Leah scoffed. “He’s almost as handsome as Daniel.”
“He’s way hotter.” I grinned.
“I knew you liked him!”
“I didn’t say I didn’t know he was hot. Jesus. I slept with him. I’m clearly attracted to him. I’m just not interested in having more than one night. With anyone.”
“Who said anything about a relationship?” Leah asked. “Just enjoy a fling and see where it goes.”
“It’s not going anywhere. It’s not like I’m going to bump into him again.”
“He’s going to call you.”
“Whatever.”
***
This was what vacations were all about. Wrapped up in the world’s softest duvet, in PJs, eating chocolate and watching movies. Leah and I were arguing over which movie to play next. Obviously, we’d started with Pretty Woman. Although Leah protested about watching it for the millionth time with me, I knew she secretly loved it.
“There’s no way I’m watching The Vow. It’s a bullshit film,” I said.
“You know it’s not bullshit. It’s one of your favorite films ever. But we don’t have to watch it if it’s going to make your mood plummet farther downhill. What about Sweet Home Alabama?”
“If it hasn’t got Ryan Gosling in it, I’m not interested.”
“You don’t think Josh Lucas is hot?”
“I’m not saying he’s not hot. I just think Ryan is hotter.”
“Ryan has a funny eye.”
“How can you say that? He does not!”
I heard my phone ring from somewhere in the bed and I dived below the duvet to retrieve it. Fuck, where was it? The name “Sex God” flashed up on the screen and I grinned. I should ignore it. But as I didn’t actually know who it was, although of course I did, I pressed Accept.
“Are you stalking me?” I answered.
“No, I’m calling you. Calling someone after a night of incredible sex is not normally considered stalking, as far as I’m aware. But I like the way you see the words ‘Sex God’ and you assume it’s me calling.”
He thought the sex was incredible, too? I’d supposed it was par for course for Roman gods like him. I squeezed my thighs together.
“Oh.” It was all I could think to say.
“So, I’ll pick you up at 7 p.m.”
Leah was grinning at me so I sidled into the bathroom, shut the door, and perched on the bath, chewing my finger.
“Anna?”
“Uh huh.”
“7 p.m.”
“I …”
“Tell me your address so I can pick you up.”