Page 23 of Vodka And Virtue

I gazed at him, taking inventory of just some of the many things I liked so much about him.

“Are you having an issue with your self-esteem?” I teased, smiling to lighten the mood.

“That’s not what I meant. Just…why me? Why not some leather wearing biker guy who likes motorcycles and shooting pool as much as you do?”

“That’s who I am, but that’s not what I’m attracted to in others. There’s a lot more to me than the way I dress and my hobbies. Maybe you need to spend some more time getting to know me better.”

“I like that color on you. It lightens up your whole…” He gestured to his face in a circle. I was amused as he tried to find the right words while still sounding polite. It was definitely an awkward compliment.

“Aura? Visage?”

“Oh, you know big words.”

“Just because I ride a motorcycle and wear a leather jacket, does that mean I’m not supposed to read well? I’ll have you know that I enjoy doing crossword puzzles in my spare time.”

“Really?” His whole countenance changed as he stood a little straighter, eyes wider.

“Sure. Standing for hours, holding up a wall in the back of a room while doing security, leaves way too much time for my mind to wander. I usually keep a crossword puzzle book rolled up and stuck inside my jacket pocket. It’s a great way to pass the time and improve your vocabulary.”

He laughed at me. His whole face lighting up brighter than the sun shining on it. “I guess you really are a glass half full kind of guy.”

”I’m a lot more than that, Carly.”

8

CARLISLE

Admittedly,I was slightly disappointed when he pulled up at the lunch spot. One of the lovely restaurants we passed along the riverside would have more than sufficed. But after he explained his half glass theory, he swayed my opinion. The romantic in me understood his angle. He was trying to woo me. I just couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why.

I guess I looked half decent, because my brother looked identical to me, and guys found him pretty attractive. I was smart, I knew that. I was honest and loyal to a fault, and always made an effort to be nice to people. But all of that only ever made me feel mediocre. At least, that’s the vibe that I got from the women I dated. Maybe because they always told me I was lacking somehow.

But not with Rory. He didn’t seem to find fault in me whatsoever. He repeatedly went out of his way to get my attention and make a good impression. And it was starting to work. It really was. Because more and more lately, I couldn’t seem to get him off my mind. That almost kiss that ruled my thoughts night and day. And although I countered the point every time he called me Carly, I hoped he never stopped trying to get away with it.

Everyone in my family called me Carly, but somehow, falling off of Rory’s tongue, it felt intimate. Sexy. It was a foreign but exciting feeling. He just seemed so… I don’t know, larger than life? Dangerous? And yet, I got the feeling that he was a gentle bear inside. His constant pursuit of me made me feel special and desirable. His endless patience and unwavering support and positivity put me at ease. I felt safe with him. Physically. But the way he made my heart pound in my chest like it was trying to claw its way out? There was nothing safe about that feeling. It was thrilling and addicting, and I wanted more of it.

I followed him down to the sand, just feet from the water’s edge. Rory spread out the blanket and sat, tugging me down beside him. Taking a deep breath of fresh air into my lungs, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, letting the warm sun bathe my face. I kicked off my shoes and dug my toes down into the cool sand. The waves lapped gently at the shoreline, not far from our blanket.

Rory was absolutely correct. This was way more enjoyable and memorable than eating lunch at a restaurant. It felt like we were in our own little beach bubble, and I was grateful it was a weekday. Most people were at work; otherwise, there was no way we would have the spot to ourselves.

I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. He was watching me again, thinking I was oblivious with my eyes closed. But I couldfeelhim. I turned to face him, catching him off guard.

“What?”

He smiled lazily. “I like what I see.”

“Is that right?” I closed my eyes again, resuming my sunbathing. “Then look your fill.”

I was flirting, and it felt exhilarating. Who was this version of me? I was almost unrecognizable to myself. Yes, I was enjoying the sun’s warmth on my skin, relaxing, soaking up this beautiful afternoon. But also, I was strategically positioned in an alluring pose, with my back arched, and my long legs stretched out, knees slightly parted, and my throat exposed.

I wanted him to look at me—to want me. And that was the part that was foreign to me.

In the past, whenever I admired a man, it was always one-sided. I looked from afar. Desired from a distance. Maybe I would take the fantasy home with me that night and replay it as I lay in bed, touching myself. Imagining the things I might let him do to me, if I were bolder, more secure, and confident with myself and my sexuality.

But with Rory, I was here in the moment with him, allowing things to progress.

Should I ask him for another date?

How far would I let him go before I lost my nerve?

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