Page 82 of Lucky Shot
He leans forward again to get the other drink. This one is in a short glass. The pinkish hue and pineapple wedge give it a fun, fruity feel. I’m certain at some point in my life I’ve had one before, but it’s been too long to remember what it tastes like.
We switch off. Nick holds the cable car as I take the mai tai. The same way I had the last glass, I slowly bring it to my mouth. The coconut and pineapple scent is strong, and it tastes exactly like I imagined. Sweet and fruity and fun.
“Do we have a winner?” Nick asks.
I nod. “It tastes like summer.”
“It smells like you.”
“I smell like summer?”
“Coconut,” he says.
I take another sip. “I’m not sure I could drink more than one of these.”
“What else do you want to try?”
“Are you going to make that poor bartender make every drink they have?”
“No,” he says, then grins. “Just the ones without scotch, red wine, beer, and tequila.”
I laugh, mostly because I think he might be serious. “What’syourtypical type?”
He takes the mai tai from me and sips it. “I’m partial to coconut, but it’s a little sweet.”
“I meant in women.”
He absolutely knew what I meant, judging by the cocky smirk he aims at me.
“Let me guess. Tall, graceful, willowy, gorgeous.”
“According to Travis, my type is the nice and wholesome girl next door.”
“Really? I did not get that vibe from your ex. I mean, I’m sure she’s nice but she’s far too beautiful to be the girl next door.”
“You’re beautiful and literally live next door.”
“You know what I mean.”
He laughs again. I let the quiet fall between us, hoping he’ll tell me more. I don’t want him to tell me just because I’m asking. I want him to share because maybe this could be more than a business arrangement.
“Is convenient a type?” he asks, looking sheepish or maybe regretful. He shrugs those big shoulders. “Since Aidan was born, I’ve kept things casual.”
“Like hookups?”
He gives a reluctant nod.
“It isn’t that I set out to be a guy whose sex life revolves around one-night stands and hooks up with women on the road, but it’s simpler.”
“No judgment here. I get it.”
“What about you?”
“I went through a phase in my early twenties where I kissed a lot of guys at bars or clubs, parties. Olivia called me the make-out queen. I really like making out.”
Amusement creeps into his features and his smile is crooked. His gaze drops again to my mouth. I’d like to make out with him. I bet he’d be great at it.
“Sex with strangers always feels too scary. And with no guarantee that he’ll be able to get me off.” I shake my head. “Too risky.”
