Page 3 of Not My Finest Hour

I can’t do another shot. I’m still feeling the effects of the last one, and if I have one more, I’m not going to remember anything about tonight. And if I’m going to truly put myself out there again, I want to have my wits about me. “I’ll take a beer. Whatever they have on tap is fine.”

The guy orders two beers and places one in front of me. We clink glasses and each take a sip. It’s light, hoppy with a hint of citrus, and goes down easily, especially after having tequila most of the night.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Dahlia. And yours?”

“Dahlia? Like the flower?”

I nod. “Exactly like the flower.”

He pauses, eyes drifting away for a split second, then takes a sip of his beer. “Huh. I’ve never met anyone with that name before. I like it. My name’s Justin.”

“So, Justin, what do you do?” Oh, God. Is that even a good question to ask, or is that too forward? Is he going to think that I want to know how much money he makes? As if that matters to me.

“I’m in my fourth year of residency.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

He smiles, the skin crinkling around his eyes. “It means I’m almost a full-fledged doctor.”

Realization hits me almost instantly. “Oh!Thatkind of residency.”

“Is there any other kind?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I just never expected to meet a doctor in a bar.”

“Yeah, it’s not usually my scene, especially on a weeknight, but a friend dragged me here.”

“And where is your friend now?”

“Over there with that woman,” he says, pointing toward the back of the bar.

I follow his finger and find him pointing to Lorelei and the guy next to her. “Sounds like your friend and my friend found each other. I came here tonight with her and that one over there,” I say, pointing to where Chelsea is practically hanging on the bodybuilder.

“Yeah, I saw you with them earlier.”

“So you admit you were watching me?” I ask, a grin playing on my lips.

The corners of his lips turn up in a mischievous smile. “Guilty.”

A frisson of excitement skitters down my spine, giving me goosebumps. Chelsea was right. Hewaswatching me, and likely has been all night if he saw me with my friends. I’m not gonna lie…I’m more than a little turned on by it, and it’s been too long since I’ve felt this way. So after a bit of small talk, when Justin looks up at me after draining his beer and asks, “Do you want to go back to my place?” I don’t even think twice about it.

Feeling emboldened by the amount of alcohol I’ve had, I link my arm through his and we exit the building, out into the rain, Justin doing his best to shield me from the worst of it. We quickly walk to a neighboring parking garage and as soon as we’re sheltered and out of the rain, he pulls me against his chest. I’m lost in those bright, ice-blue eyes of his and don’t resist when he brings his lips to mine. His kiss is warm and sensual, with just the right amount of firmness. I can’t remember the last time I was kissed, and it’s like it’s broken something open inside of me. I have to have more. Crave more. I’m on my tiptoes, trying to bring myself closer and closer to him. He responds by deepening the kiss, then grazing my lower lip with his tongue. He pulls away, leaving me breathless, my heart pounding against my chest.

He plants one last small kiss against my lips, then takes my hand and leads me to his car. Before he starts it, he turns toward me. “Are you sure you still want to do this? I can take you home if you want.”

I’ve realized something tonight. I’ve been holding myself hostage for far too long, waiting on a guy who is never coming back. It’s time for me to rid myself of Alain once and for all. My friends and my mom are wrong. Icanmove on from Alain, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do tonight.

I lace my fingers through his and say, “Take me to your place.”

ChapterTwo

Icrack open my eyelids the next morning and take in my surroundings. I’m in a bed that’s not my own, and my naked body is wrapped up in the coziest sheets I’ve ever slept on. The spot beside me is empty, and I reach over to feel the depression in the mattress. Still warm, which tells me that I haven’t been alone long. There’s a faint sound of a shower running somewhere close to this room, and I’m pretty sure there’s a coffee maker going, judging by the scent that’s permeating the air.

I roll over and check my phone for the time. It’s just after six in the morning. Why the hell am I awake right now? I’m never up this early, but it’s probably for the best since I’m in someone else’s house. I’m feeling very rusty when it comes to what to do here. Should I throw on last night’s clothes and get an Uber home before he gets out of the shower? Or should I wait and see if maybe there’s going to be a round two this morning? I’m deliciously sore down there since it’s been years since I’ve last done the deed, but I wouldn’t let that stop me.

I remember so much from last night, and I didn’t expect that. That’s probably because when we came back to his place, we didn’t have sex right away. We spent some time talking on his couch before going back to his bedroom.

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