Page 11 of Dear One Night Stand
“What do you mean? I just poured my heart out to you.”
"Calm down. Telling me that you are in love with someone who isn't your fiancée isn't the declaration of love that you think it might be. Besides, I'm in love with someone else."
“I know that you aren’t really dating him,” Baker sneers. “Budgie, let it slip."
"Well, Budgie needs to check his sources better because I just left my apartment with him in my bed. So if you have nothing else to say to me. I’m going to go get back into bed with the man that I love.”
I don’t bother waiting for a response. I turn ahead for the door. I resist the urge to hold up my hands in triumph. It took some time and one amazing stranger to help rid me of any residual feelings I may have had for Baker.
7
ANNIE
“Did he leave any kind of note or anything for you?" Marnie asks the following day when she finds me curled up on the couch in tears.
I shake my head. “I’m so stupid.”
“Well, I can’t argue with you on that one,” she mumbles under her breath.
“Hey!”
“What?” She throws her arms up in frustration. “You had arguably the hottest guy in the city, naked in your bed and asking you to stay, but instead, you chose to leave and confront your ex. Um, yeah, you're a fucking idiot."
I drop my head into my hands, a new wave of tears flowing from me. “What am I going to do?”
“Well,” she sighs. “Can you track him down at the club he plays at?”
I look up at her. A flicker of hope filling my chest for the first time since I got home and found the apartment empty.
“Of course! He said that he plays there a few times a week.”
“Great, then there you go.”
I stand up and take a step towards the door.
"I'd take a shower first. You look like shit, and I doubt that will help you win him back."
“Good point.”
I quickly take a shower and get ready. Marnie is right; I need to look my best if I'm going to convince Chris to give me a second chance. I skip the cab ride even though it will be faster. I have too much nervous energy that I need to burn off. I practically speed walk the twenty blocks back to the club but stop when I see the closed sign hanging indoor.
“Shit!” I yell.
“Language,” A male voice scolds from behind me.
I turn and see the bartender from last night walking around the corner from an alley next door. He walks over to the truck parked in front and grabs another case of beer.
“Excuse me,” I say.
“You’re excused,” he grumbles.
“Do you remember me?” I ask.
He stops and looks me over. “No.”
“I was here last night with a musician that plays here.”
“Oh right.” Recognition flashes in his eyes. “You’re Chris’s girl.”
