First Chapter: Unforgettable
I wasn’t sure if agreeing to come to Speakeasy so early in the evening was a good idea, but with the scent of hot, fried food wafting around the room, the low sounding pop music playing in the background, and the slow trickle of people waltzing in, I’ve never been more grateful than I am right now to be beating that night-time rush.
Seated with a perfect view of everyone who enters, I anxiously wait and watch him as he searches for me. My body vibrates, and my leg bounces on the spot, bursting at the seams with both energy and tension that I’m desperate to burn as I take in all of him.
He has chestnut-colored hair, short on the sides, long and tousled on the top. His eyes are pools of dark chocolate and his cleanly shaven face accentuates his sharply angled jawline. He’s even more attractive in real life than in his profile picture.
But it’s the rest of him that has me staring. The parts of him the photo doesn’t show. The parts of him that are exactly what I’m looking for tonight.
He’s tall. Not as tall as my six-foot-four frame, but tall compared to most people. He’s slim but not skinny, lean but not lanky. He looks like a mix of strength and submission, and fuck if that isn’t my kryptonite.
He’s wearing a charcoal-colored shirt and ripped, black skinny-leg jeans, which you’d think would make him blend into the crowd. But even with his choice of dull, understated colors, my eyes have difficulty noticing anything but him.
He takes one last look at his cell and slips it into his back pocket. I watch his body rise and fall in a big exhalation as he silently, but very obviously, gives himself a pep talk. The carefree confident man of his Blush profile is nowhere to be found, and, for some unexplainable reason, that single change in him hits me square in the chest.
Meeting someone for sex through an app isn’t everybody’s cup of tea, but it looks like this guy desperately wants it to be his.
It doesn’t take too long for his gaze to find mine, and when it does, I tip my chin up at him and smile, careful not to scare him away. He looks both relieved and nervous, and I realize I, too, let out a sigh of relief when he finally starts walking in my direction.
Because my mother taught me manners, no matter the circumstances, I rise up to my feet to greet him. Knowing one another only by our Blush usernames, I hold out my hand and introduce myself. “Hey, I’m Oz.”
“Reeve,” he supplies, slipping his hand into mine. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Smiling, I release his hand and watch as he awkwardly sits in the chair perpendicular to the one I was in.
Running his hands over his thighs, it’s obvious he’s shy. And I don’t know why I’m surprised or why I find it so endearing, but I take the seat beside him and feel myself loosen up in his presence. I feel the shitty day that propelled me to seek out a hook-up in the first place, fade into the background, and my natural inclination to put other people at ease rise to the surface for this stranger.
“What would you like to drink?” I ask.
“Drink,” he repeats, like he’s surprised I would offer.
“What?” I smirk. “Did you think we would just fuck on the table straight away?” I almost regret my crass words, but when a loud laugh bursts from his mouth, I know it worked in my favor.
“I’m sorry.” He sighs. “I’m really bad at this.”
I tilt my head to the side, playing coy. “At what?”
He gestures between us. “I’ve never done this before.”
Because I feel like it needs to be said, and I don’t want him to think just because he showed up he has to follow through with anything, I hold his gaze, my tone a little more serious. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Now or later, one drink or ten drinks. There’s no obligation.”
“Thank you,” he says. “I mean, I know. But I still appreciate you saying it out loud.”
“How about those drinks?” I offer. “I think we could both use one.”
Nodding, he reaches for his wallet, but I put a hand out to stop him. “You can get the next ones. Any preferences?”
He turns to look at the selection of drinks and taps on display and then back at me. “Whatever’s good.”
Walking up to the bar, I’m reminded of my own job at Vino and Veritas. While it would’ve been easier and closer to my apartment to have Reeve meet me there, I don’t like to give a stranger complete access to me, at least not past our night together.
When it comes to one-night stands, I have my own set of rules, and making sure I’m safe and comfortable as well as the person I’m with, is one of them. I know some people are happy to meet at a hotel and get right down to business, but I don’t work that way, and in this scenario, I don’t think Reeve does either.
The forty-minute Uber ride from Burlington to Colebury might seem like a bit much, but Speakeasy is my home away from home, and if it doesn’t work out with Reeve on the sex front, then at least I can easily turn it into a night spent with good beer and good food.
“Oz,” Matteo, the manager, says with a welcoming smile. “I haven’t seen you in ages. What brings you here tonight?”
I tip my head back in Reeve’s direction. “Just meeting someone.”
“Like a date?”
“Something a little less serious than a date,” I say cryptically.
“Ah.” He points a knowing finger at me. “What can I get you both? The usual? Actually…”
His voice trails off as he grabs two pints and holds one up to the beer tap. “A batch of the Audrey was just delivered earlier today, and they don’t call it the cider that smells like sex for nothing.”
I scrunch my face up in confusion. “Smells like sex?”
“Yes.” He chuckles. “Everybody knows about it, but we don’t stock it often.”
He flicks the tap and a stream of amber liquid flows down and into the glass. As it reaches halfway, Matteo effortlessly switches out the pints and alternates between the two until the glasses are full, the tap is flicked back, and they’re both resting on the bar. “Maybe it will help move things along for you two.”
“Are you saying I need help, Matteo?” Smiling, I look down at myself and back at him. “I’ve been told I’m a fine specimen of a man.”
He laughs, his eyes flickering between me and Reeve sitting behind me. “You might not need help, but I think your date does.”
I look over my shoulder and Reeve is sitting there wringing his hands together nervously. That unnamed feeling from earlier returns as I watch him try so hard to step out of his comfort zone.
Turning back to Matteo, I drag my wallet out of my pocket, pluck out a fifty, and slap it onto the bar. “Put whatever’s left toward the next one.”
He takes the cash and smiles at me fondly. “Good luck.”
Carefully, I pick up our drinks and head over to Reeve. As I get closer to the table, he raises his head, and his eyes slowly travel up and down my body. The flicker of interest gives me a confidence boost I don’t usually need.
Placing our drinks on the table, I take a seat, inching my chair just a little bit closer to him. “I hope you like cider.”
“I think I’ve moved to the wrong place if I don’t like cider.”
My ears perk up with interest. “Oh, so you’re new here.”
“It’s a long story, but I’m originally from Connecticut.”
He doesn’t say much more, and I respect the silence enough not to pry but don’t really know where to take the conversation from here. Just as I’m about to fill the silence, Reeve pipes in. “What about you? Are you from here?”
“I’m from Vermont, yeah,” I say casually. “Born and raised.”
“Ever left?”
The question hits too close to home. Too close to the fight I had with my dad this morning. “I do, occasionally. I love hopping around the country for different food and music festivals.”
When my answer is met with nothing but silence again, I’m almost certain the night is over before it’s really begun.
“I’m sorry,” Reeve says, and I wince at how often he feels the need to say those two words.
I place my hand over his forearm, stopping him. “No apology necessary. We can call it a night if you want to.”
His face falls, and I immediately backpedal, wanting that look of disappointment to disappear.
Without hesitation, I angle my body in his direction and lean forward until my mouth is lined up right next to his ear. Going in for the kill, so he knows exactly where I stand, I decide on another way to salvage the evening. He came here tonight for sex, and maybe that’s all I need to focus on.
“I don’t think you realize that you’re this gorgeous mix of sexy and adorable.” His breath hitches, and my dick stirs at the sound. “And I do very much want to end the night with me fucking you.” When he doesn’t say a thing, I add, “Is that okay?”
“Yes.” The word is all heat and air, and I can’t help but tilt my head enough for our eyes to meet. My gaze drops to the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and back up in time to catch his tongue sliding between his lips.
It’s not exactly an invitation, but there’s something in the small motion that has me looking up at him, my eyes asking for permission.
When he does it again, I take hold of his chin, keeping him in place, and cover his mouth with mine. It’s much more forward than I intended to be, but it seems to be the exact antidote needed. For the both of us.
It’s soft and sincere. Careful, yet deliberate. A gift of comfort. A taste of pleasure.
I don’t let it linger, and I don’t take more than that moment.
“How was that?” I murmur.
He presses his lips to mine in response, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. Returning the sentiment, I take his gratitude and welcome his interest.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. “I really needed that.”
I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but I brush my knuckles down his jaw. I don’t even bother fighting the need to touch and soothe him, instead running on nothing but instinct. His eyes widen slowly, but he doesn’t move, just waiting and watching me.
Dropping my hand, I put some distance between us and grab my drink, taking a long, refreshing sip. When Reeve continues to stare at me, I bite the bullet and ask, “Did I just fuck this up?”
He smiles, and the mood shifts. His teeth are on display, and small laugh lines make an appearance around his eyes. It’s the look I want him to wear for the rest of the night.
“No,” he reassures me. “The kiss was just a surprise, that’s all.”
“A good surprise?”
He nods, his smile stretching wider.
“I’ve got more where that came from,” I say with a wink.
Picking up his glass, he takes a sip of his cider, his face still smiling, his gaze still locked on mine.
Swallowing his beverage, he puts the glass down and settles comfortably in the seat, his body language much more relaxed than earlier. “So, tell me,” he starts. “What brought you out here tonight?”
“Just wanted to burn off some steam,” I say, the husk in my voice making the implication of my words very known. “What about you?”
He chews on the corner of his lip. “About the same.”
When the lull in conversation returns, I once again take the lead and suggest, “How about we play a game?”
“I’m listening.”
“Ever played Never Have I Ever?” I ask.
He narrows his eyes at me, clearly thinking I’ve lost my mind. “I can recall a few times.”
“Perfect.” I slap my hand down on the wooden table. “I’ll grab us some shots to start, but not a whole lot because that isn’t the type of messy I have planned for tonight.”
Reeve’s face flushes at the insinuation, and I can’t help but lean over and kiss his pink cheek before standing and heading over to the bar.
“Another round of the same?” Matteo asks.
Shaking my head, I look at the display of bottles behind him. “Could I please have six shots of anything that’s easy to go down and won’t hit us too hard later?”
He tips his chin toward Reeve. “My shift is just about over, so why don’t you go back to your ‘little less serious than a date’ and I’ll bring them over to you.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. You can return the favor when I’m in your neck of the woods.”
“Thanks, man.” I drop another fifty on the bar and head back to Reeve.
“I think it was my turn to pay,” he says as I take my seat.
“It’s my crazy idea,” I tell him. “And the night’s still young, isn’t it?”
Matteo comes through with the goods, placing a tray down on the table with eight shots of something that looks a lot like orange juice, and another two pints of cider.
“What’s in these?” I ask.
“I can’t tell you all my secrets, Oz, but I do promise they’re easy to go down and they won’t hit you too hard later.”
“Smartass,” I mumble.
“Thank you,” Reeve says and hands Matteo a folded-up bill. “That’s for you.”
Matteo plucks the cash out of his hand and pretends to tip his hat at us. “Have a good evening, gentlemen.” He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Hope to see you soon, Oz.”
“Is everyone here that nice?” Reeve asks. “I’ve yet to have a horrible encounter here.”
“Well, let’s not jinx it,” I joke. “I guess that depends on how long you’re staying for. I’m sure someone is bound to act like a dickhead at some point.”
Shocking me, he grabs a shot glass and downs the alcohol, his face scrunching together at the taste.
“Bad?” I query.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Just the right amount of kick to have me playing this game of yours.”
“Does that mean I get to ask the first question?”
He nods, and I tap my index finger on my lips in mock concentration. Wanting to go easy on him, and wanting to take a drink for the team, I say, “Never have I ever had a one-night stand.”
Reeve’s lips turn up in a shy smile as I pick up a shooter and throw it down quickly. Whatever the concoction is offers a slight burn, but the aftertaste is much sweeter.
“Are you going to let me live that one down?”
“It’s cute,” I tease. “Any specific reason?”
He sighs loudly, and I almost expect him to shut me down, so I’m surprised when he says, “I’m a relationship type of guy. At least I was… in a relationship.”
“Oh, so this is why you moved?”
“Yeah, I just needed some me time. A fresh start. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Well, obviously you’re not new to this.”
A self-deprecating laugh leaves my mouth. “I am nowhere near equipped for a relationship.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to think that way about myself too,” he says despondently.
“From my experience, there’s a lot of fun to be had of the one-night stand variety.”
Leaning back into the chair, he gives me a hungry once over. “You definitely seem like a lot of fun.”
I drag my teeth across my bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. Deeper. Hungrier. Just more. “How much longer are we going to stay here?”
He slides the tray toward me. “Let’s at least finish these.”
I reach out for a shot, but he places a hand over mine, stopping me. “What?”
“We’re playing the game, Oz.”
Jokingly, I roll my eyes and pull my hand back, shifting uncomfortably in my chair, my body clearly opposed to staying still, my dick wanting nothing more than to leave and get up close and personal with Reeve.
“Ask away, then.”
“Never have I ever had a hard-on in public.”
I glance down at my lap and back up at him. “Caught that did you?”
We both reach for a shot glass, continuing to hold one another’s stare. A clear admission that we’re both here, horny, and raring to go.
He places his empty shooter down first and raises an eyebrow at me expectantly, waiting for the next question. Too far gone, I don’t hold back, and his confidence has me wanting to take this to unimaginable heights.
“Never have I ever met someone and then fantasized about all the ways I want to fuck them.”
The sharp intake of his breath tells me everything I need to know, with another round passing and both of us taking another drink. There’s one remaining shot, and I don’t bother asking another question. I slide it to him.
“Drink,” I command.
Eight empty shot glasses are now scattered across the table, and Reeve and I are buzzing with matching need and curiosity.
Feeling loose and lax, I lean forward, invading his space. “You ready to get out of here?”
Courageously, he brushes his lips over mine. “Please.”