Page 28 of Gift Horse

“I did!” I dissolve into laughter again, though the delicious tug in my panties tells me that I enjoyed more than Vengeance with a V. I felt that dance, just as he did. We were heat-seeking missiles who didn’t get to explode. Ugh. What’s the point thinking like that? He’s made his choice.Go back, big, logical brain; rewind to the bit where I was triumphant.But I can’t let the wind out of my sails. Not yet. Not before Alicia knows the whole story. “Helikedit!”

“Damn straight he liked it! My girl, dressed like Pokémon’s Charizard, flaunting what you’ve got! How could he not love it?” It takes everything in me to refrain from reminding her of what he said—about wanting someone who looked nothing like me. But then there was the unapologetic kiss at my door, the erections that seem to follow me around. At a chemical level, I make the man want me. I swallow a laugh-snort. He wants me, he just can’t have me. It doesn’t matter how many times tonight I’ve seen him be kind and good to veterans and Xenas and grandmas—he still has to go and fuck for money, not pleasure or fun or love or any of that. Talk about a Debbie Downer!

“Lolly? You still there?” Alicia’s such a gem. I’m so lucky she’s always here for me.

“I don’t know what came over me. I just… He was sitting right next to that middle-aged rich-o, and damn if she wasn’t sporting a monstroushickyand I just thought—”

“—that hickies were for nerds in junior high who never learned to kiss properly?” Alicia loves to finish my sentences, but usually not in the way I would finish them.

“Noooo. I mean, well. Yes, they aretotallyjunior high. But that’s not what I was going to say.” She wouldn’t know a good hicky if it bit her on the neck, but there’s no point explainingbitingto her, and definitely notsucking and biting.

“You were going to say you just pressed send on a video of you being your bad self in Mariano’s lap?”

I start to giggle. “I was going to say, damn if Mariano doesn’t have the biggest—” I didn’t tell her about his half-naked visit to my door, but I can admit to this hard-on reveal, seeing as it happened in front of a room full of witnesses. “He’s packing, Lish. Is that what we call it? He’s got a big ol’ ding-dong right in his pantaloons!”

Alicia snorts and I dissolve into fits again.

“Owwwww.” It’s a full three minutes before I finally manage to speak. “My abs…” I have to catch my breath and tell Dish-Lish the rest.

But, what is there to tell? I’m headed to England, doing whatever it takes to hold on to what’s left of my polo career, and there is no reason for me to ever talk to Mariano again. No more lips meeting, hips thrusting, dicks coming at me, none of that. I sniffle into my elbow so Alicia won’t hear me.

“Lollz? When did you last have water? You’re…um. Your voice is doing that thing…” Alicia has gyrated by my side on enough dance floors and belted the chorus ofShallowinto enough microphones (I’m Lady Gaga, she’s Bradley Cooper in that duet) that she knows exactly when to bring me another cocktail or top me up with a glass of water or give me a hug.

“I’m fine,” but the single-syllable word stretches out in my mouth in such a way that makes it clear I am totally not sober. “And I’ve got”—I glance at the time on my phone— “Oh, shit! I’ve got to go! I promised to help cut the cake—” The giggles threaten to come back. I have no idea what Gustavo was thinking when he asked me to join what he called ‘the confectionary queens.’ I’m probably going to end up with cake all down my front and frosting on my nipples. I have to beat back the images of Mariano’s mouth on my frosting with a damn stick the size of Manhattan. Why won’t the man leave me alone? Even drunk and verging on the spins, he’s front and center in my brains. Plural.Hahahahaha.Oh, dear. She’s right. I need water.

“Don’t forget: I require video. Or pics. Something. If someone didn’t get images of you in Mariano’s lap, I insist you orchestrate a repeat performance.”

Yeah. No. Not happening. That was a one-off. But Alicia doesn’t need to know that. We hang up and I gulp down as much water as I can scoop from the running tap, then I speed walk out of the bathroom and, like fate has some kind of joke with me as the punchline, run smack into the finest set of pecs known to man, carved into an edifice that’s tall and solid and dressed in tails—the traditional kind.

BUTTON IT UP

Lolly Benoit. High Winds Polo Club. Palm Beach, Florida.

Mariano runs a hand through his hair, just like he did when I turned up for my interview and he told me ‘Not you’ and ‘Not enough’ and ‘More of other stuff…’ Whatever. I’m notsobersober, but I’m not giggling anymore either. “Lolly?”

“No.” I don’t even know what I’m refusing, but it’s the only word I’m capable of forming. Water. Water, water, coffee, water. I donotwant to be having a conversation with him when drunk. Lolly Benoit, cited for two TWIs in one night. Talking While Intoxicated. With Alicia it’s one thing, but withhim?

“Please. I must explain—” Over the throbbing bass out on the dance floor and the cheers that keep going up, it’s hard to hear him. “I’m free. I’m a free man. Now we can—”

I don’t let him finish. I need to cut this short and find myself a cup of strong, hot coffee. “You have nothing more to say to me. Consider us even.” With that, I sidestep him, intending to sashay away, ignoring the part of me desperate to knowwhat Mariano could possibly have to explain to me or what he means that he’sfree.I saw him dancing with his be-hickie'd lady friend.

But, unlike before, he immediately comes after me, overtaking me in two long strides. He blinks and opens his mouth, but before he even gets a word out, Alex Yanez, the player who bought his way onto Mariano’s polo team, slaps him on the back.

“Mariano, my man! We’ve been looking everywhere for you! They’re cutting that crazy cake. You’ve got to be there for the cameras. Representation, man. It’s where it’s at…”

“Alex. No. I must—” He shrugs his teammate off and reaches for my hand, his fingertips grazing my palm, then lightly closing on my fingers. “Forgive me—”

I pull away. He’s hardly touched me and he’s already rung my damn bell. That Little Button that’s tucked inside the insides of my insides—oh, god, Alicia was right, I’m more than halfway to being utterly trashed. The words are tumbling around my head, pictures flashing, his abs smeared in my body paint. That settles it: I have to get away from him before I do something truly stupid. Men might be ruled by their ‘little head,’ but I’m sure AF not going down that route. My days of a quick snog in the back of the neighborhood pub are very firmly relegated to my partial-English upbringing. Those days aredone.Say it again, Lolly:Over and done.“There’s nothing more to say—”

“No, Lolly. Everything is changed, now. My duty called and I answered. I tried to tell you—” He mimics sending a text. Pffft. As if a texted apology could ever be sufficient. “Please. In truth, everything you can imagine has changed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently—”

Dammit, my English Lit heart almost melts right there in the hallway, and then something like rage takes over, taking my 7/10 drunk brain down to a 5/10. “Are you seriously trying to quote Mr. Darcy at me?” Because, no, you don’t get to do that. It’s cheap and nasty and a shortcut and screw you. But none of those words come out of my mouth. Instead, we seem to be at a standoff. A standoff with a lot of staring andbreathing.

I try to regulate my breaths, my Little Button, my Pea Brain, is in outright rebellion, thumping to the beat of the bass and forcing gasps out of me. If he lays a single finger on me, I’ll be nothing but an outline on the wall. That’s what nuclear fusion of the sexual kind does to a girl. This girl. This woman. This man and this woman.Oh, shut up. Walk away. Stop this.He might be kind and good with colicky horses and little old ladies, and he might have a glorious body that makes you thrum with need, but he is notyoursand never can be.

HE DOESN’T WANT YOU ENOUGH, LOLLY! GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL! LUST IS NOT ENOUGH!

“If we had met but a few days later, Lolly, when I knew I would never be able to walk away from you…” He’s reaching for me again. I’m cornered. Trapped. Wanting to bolt, but unable to move. “And now that I’m a free man…”

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