Page 6 of This or That
My mumble is barely audible, thanks to my groggy sexed-up tone. “At least, I’m not hearing voices,” I reply to the gorgeous sleepyhead, who launches the comforter in my direction before lying on her side, elbow on the mattress, her head supported by her manicured nails.
Puzzled, she scrutinizes me. “What?” Our eyes lock in mutual bewilderment. There are so many emotions and unanswered questions in her green eyes that my head spins.What is she doing here when I mostly hook up at their place? What happened last night? What’s her name again? The one with the cowboy hat I dreamt of?
“Nah, I don’t picture you wearing a cowboy hat,” I state for my own sake, and I don’t miss the tinge of regret in my voice. Could cowgirls be my new thing? Interesting.
She rolls over and sits up, covering her ample breasts as soon as she sees my gaze focus on them. Well, they look too perfect to be real anyway, and as much as I enjoy an impressive rack, I prefer themau naturel.
“You’re not making any sense, Mike.”
“Duh!” I’ve been lost inside my head almost ever since I woke up.
“Never mind.” She heaves an irritated sigh, staring at my flaccid cock that is unfortunately in plain view. Suddenly shy, I reach for the comforter to conceal myself and place my hands behind my head to stay still. “I can’t decide if I’m happy that you finally managed to get it up or pissed because I’m not the reason behind it.” She looks me in the eye, biting the corner of her lip.
I’m afraid to inquire how she ended up here. Trying to focus on the events that led to this is useless. My exhaustion hasn’t subsided, although I’m blissed-out from the fantastic orgasm that she had no part in, and sadly acknowledging the upcoming headache that’s slowly but surely taking hold. “I can’t decide whether I’m pissed at you for lying about rising to the occasion or happy that you let me take care of myself without interrupting since you were…” I mimic her, scratching my neck while thinking of a witty comeback. Nothing comes to mind. “Since you favored your beauty sleep over sex.”
My comment makes her bolt out of bed, taking the comforter with her, and she rolls it around her body, leaving me stark naked. “Listen, Magic Mike.” I grumble at the nickname that I despise, even though it’s due to my striking resemblance to Channing Tatum when my hair’s cut short, which I can’t complain about. “I’ve had enough negativity for now. I’m gonna go make some strong coffee, and we’ll have a coherent conversation like grown-ups. So far, you’ve been anything but magic!” Instead of strolling out of the bedroom, she treads toward the bed and strikes with a bossy command. “Meanwhile, get a hold of yourself. Take a shower and get cleaned up. I hope it’ll help clear your mind. Also, friendly reminder: my name’s Lisa. The woman you undoubtedly used to show that you had your shit together. The woman you brought home but were too trashed to fuck. The woman you wanted to wear a cowboy hat to remind you of the blistering kiss a stranger stole from you last night. Well, guess what, pretty boy? You don’t deserve me.”
I’m too stupefied to utter a word. Could she be telling the truth? Why don’t I remember a thing? A cold shiver runs down my spine as I try to make sense of her revelations. She’s right, I don’t deserve her. Since when have I become such an asshole?
She shrugs, her eyes piercing me defiantly. “Considering what you said a minute ago, I bet you jerked off with a cowboy hat in mind. Am I right?”
Incapable of lying, I chuckle while my body breaks out in goosebumps.
Amused by my reaction, she declares, “See, I may be blonde, but don’t judge a book by its cover.” She secures the covers around her body before they slide down. Too bad, I would have enjoyed the view. “What I don’t get, though, is why you brought me back home when it’s crystal clear that I wasn’t who you wanted. I guess the alcohol’s to blame.” She looks away for a moment, her fingers caressing her chin. I’m about to interrupt, but she beats me to it. “Unless the alcohol boosted the cowboy’s effect?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Last night’s encounter? The person wearing a cowboy hat? Ring a bell?” She giggles and I frown, hoping that my frustration isn’t too evident. “Interesting that your mind has no recollection, but your body says otherwise.” Her mockery compounds my discomfort. “Watching you guys kiss made the other patrons horny! Funny no one figured out how much you enjoyed it. Even your common sense refuses to acknowledge it. Alcohol lowered your inhibitions; that’s all I can think of. Too bad it didn’t play in my favor…”
After listening to the assumptions that she voiced aloud, I clear my throat, perplexed.
“Calm your tits, Lisa! I probably shouldn’t have drank so much. Everything’s foggy. Idoremember a kiss and a cowboy hat. Apparently, you weren’t the one wearing it, so now I’m confused. It’s like I blacked out.” At my honest admission, she sits on the bed and pecks my forehead.
“Sounds like it. And no, the cowboy hat doesn’t belong to me. To set the record straight,”—she giggles, which somehow grates on my nerves—“it belongs to…” She trails off.
“Will you stop it already? Spit it out!” I hate that my mind is blank. “Did I stick my inebriated tongue down some married woman’s throat and make a fool of myself or what?”
“Nah, no married woman was involved...” Now, that’s a relief! But the fact that she trailed off again irks me. “You’re not paying attention!” My brow spikes up, silently pleading for the last bit of information. “I said ‘you guys.’” She wiggles her eyebrows, teasing me, which in turn, propels me to snatch the covers back from her to hide beneath… because her answer floors me.
“The bartender.”
Chapter 5
Free
Troy
“Again, sorry about the last-minute booking, Hunter,” my boss for the next fifteen days repeats. He’s pretty laidback, but this issue stresses him out. I can’t figure out why.
“Like I said, I’m here and thrilled about it.” My smile widens.
The chance landed on my Parisian doorstep in the form of Nicolas Demeulenaere. The infamous Belgian event planner specializes in launching and promoting what I call hipster brands and recently acquired an electro label. Anna introduced us a while back, and when I learned that he was looking for fresh talent, I jumped at his offer. He selectedmeto entertain the patrons on this cruise from Marseille to Rio. How cool is that?
Prior to booking my services, he listened to my tracks on SoundCloud and attended several of my performances. Gigs that were set in France, Belgium, and Spain. Gigs that I managed to juggle while working part-time at the club and studying in Paris full-time. Gigs that ultimately snowballed into something bigger, and my alter ego DJ Monster Hunter became my focus once my internship was over.
And voilà! Here I am two months later. Eight months after I confessed my sexual preference to my friend with benefits. Over twelve months after I landed in Paris.
Monster Hunter isn’t the most original name, I’ll give you that. Believe it or not, I chose it carefully. On top of the this or that games that I play on a regular basis, I’m also known for my odd sense of humor. What can I say? I found it humorous to attach the judgmental nickname my parents gave me to the last name we have in common. To them, I was a monster. Isn’t it ironic that I’m a pretty famous one? Deal with that, bigots!
