Page 6 of Up All Night
“Where are you from?”The Spanish Inquisition had arrived, and it carried the banner “CYNDI.”
“From Greece. You?”
Ladies and gentleman, I was talking to some hot Greekgaijinand the man worked in a restaurant. I had to know more. First, he had finally asked me a real question! Already we had transcended the usual conversation limit before a hookup.
“I’m from America. Just visiting.”
“Oh nice.”
Not a damn thing more for a few hours. Great! I had scared him off with my Americanness. Somehow I wasn’t surprised. We American women have a reputation for being sexual deviants with huge, scary tits. Some guys can’t handle that abroad. (Or at home for that matter.)
I had to get a grip. There was no guarantee that because a guy talked to me he would want to go out with me. At the same time, I was damn new to this. I was used to being the one who asked people out, because for some reason, I was always attracted to those who were eitherlazy as fuckor couldn’t comprehend being as aggressive as asking someone out on a date. This is probably why I actually hadn’t been on a ton of legitimate dates in my life.
Still, I didn’t feel comfortable being the aggressive one when I barely knew who this guy was. I know, I know. He didn’t know much about me, either. IknowI shouldn’t have bought into sexist ideals that the guy always asks the gal out first. But, here’s a secret. Never, ever in my life has a guy that I am interested in asked me out. If I went out with a guy, I was the one who suggested it first. (Or, you know, we were already hanging out and one thing turned into another…)
I was determined to make this guy work for it a little bit. I may have been on the prowl for a one-night stand, but I had a few fantasies to fulfill while I was at it. Besides, wasn’t I playing around at this stage?
Jesus! I needed to calm down!
How the fuck could I calm down when 1) I write sexy romance for a living, and so I am constantly reminded of how people get down and dirty 2) My neighbor was always having sex and making me think about sex, whether I liked it or not 3) This was some seriously rough ovulating happening and 4) SOME HOT GUY WAS TALKING TO ME.
I shut down my work an hour early. My brain was too fried with the sex I wasn’t having.
And someone wasn’t responding to me. I’d find out why later, but for now, life sucked.
***
“I’m sorry. I work late. It is restaurant.”
Should I respond right away, or was that too desperate? I waited ten minutes so he wouldn’t think I stared at my phone 24/7 like some loser. I was in Japan, after all. I was supposed to be having a life. (Ha.)
“No worries. I work late too.”
“What you do?”
Oh, boy. My profile said I wrote sexy books for a living, but I suppose that was too intense for someone to read. I wasn’t about to believe guys salivated over women’s profiles the way we completely deconstructed theirs before deciding whether to respond or not.
“I write stories for a living.”
“Really?”
“Yup! It’s fun.”
“Yes, it’s nice.”
Okay. Cool. It was two in the morning and I had no plans the next day. Was this guy gonna ask me out or not?
I was gonna have to get coy, wasn’t I?
Feminine wiles are something I have in spades, although I don’t use them often. I mostly put them toward my books – I let my female romance characters act out those crazy wiles that I hoard within me. Even so, I know how to fucking use them. Poor Hadrian was about to be my first real life test subject in many years.
“Do you have plans tomorrow?”
God, as soon as I sent it, I realized how fucking transparent that kind of question is! Anyone with half a brain would know I geared up to ask him out.
“I work. Every day I work.”
Man, was he kidding me!
