Page 15 of The Physical Attraction Seminar
I don’t remember setting my phone down last night, but I find it lying on the entry table and quickly grab it before sneaking out the front door. The screen is dim from battery-saving mode, but I can still make out the ungodly amount of unread text messages cluttering my home page.
Camila Greene
6:29 p.m.
A couple of us are heading to Eager Hour Taproom for drinks. You in?
8.30 p.m.
I’ll take your non-response as a no…
10:26 p.m.
I just got home, and you’re not here. Where are you?
10:52 p.m.
Did you know the city’s murder rate skyrocketed by 26.1% last year?
11:38 p.m.
I would love it if you would text me back, so I can feel a sense of relief knowing you’re not part of the statistic.
12:28 a.m.
Seriously, Ly. I’m starting to worry. You always answer your phone. Where are you?
2:29 a.m.
If you’re not at work in the morning, I’m calling the police to file a missing person’s report. And when they ask for a picture, I’m giving them the one of you in that ugly sweater from last year’s Christmas party, and I won’t even feel bad about it.
I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do later, but right now, I need to go home and make myself presentable. I have an interview in less than three hours, and I’ve got a gut feeling that it isn’t going to go as well as Elliot expects it to.
SIX
BARRETT
In hindsight,I realize that I should have prepared myself to wake up alone. Lyla and I had an agreement, and I had a clear understanding of what I was getting myself into when I said yes. Yet, there’s still a part of me that hoped that when I woke up, her soft hair would still be against my cheek, and I’d open my eyes to find her curled up beside me.
All I have left of her now is the lingering scent of her perfume on my pillow and the smell of sex on my sheets.
Whether you choose to believe it or not, my typical approach to dating doesn’t involve chance encounters outside of restaurants. Women approaching me for one-night stands and casual hookups happens more often than not, especially once they find out who my family is, but never once have I said yes. Until last night.
Despite all of that, I can’t help but feel like a complete idiot for entertaining the idea that meeting Lyla was some sort of destined scenario. I find it comical that I woke upcold and alone in my bed this morning, and I’m still holding on to the idyllic notion that our paths were meant to cross last night. And if that’s the case, then surely, they’ll cross again.
I’m an idiot. Hell, I’m even self-aware enough to know that I’m being an idiot, but that doesn’t seem to stop me.
Maybe it’s because it’s been months since I’ve been on a date, and last night was a rare occurrence for me. Or perhaps it’s because I liked Lyla a lot more than I should have.
It’s not every day that you run into a gorgeous girl who checks all of your boxes. She’s funny. She’s spontaneous. And she looks damn good while moaning my name as she comes.
Fuck me.
I scrub my hand over my face and turn to lie on my back while silently regretting accepting her agreement without even attempting a counteroffer. Seriously, what kind of business executive doesn’t negotiate before accepting a deal?
One night. No expectation. No stress. No exchanging phone numbers. No feelings to deal with tomorrow.
I let out a muffled groan while rustling beneath the covers to roll onto my back. For five minutes, I stare at the cream-colored ceiling, trying to drown out the echo of her words playing over and over again in my mind.
