ONE
MAISIE
None of what happened that night was my fault.
I couldn’t help that hours earlier I’d walked in on my boyfriend of five years fucking the living daylights out of my stepsister. I couldn’t help it that I immediately proceeded to drive to the only bar in our one horse town that just so happened to be connected to the only hotel in town that just so happened to be housing a man from out of town who looked an awful lot like Ryan Gosling.
I also couldn’t help it that said Ryan Gosling twin was hitting on me something fierce. Or a least it felt like he was. I’d been drinking since the moment I sat down at the scratched wood bar.
“I’m going to go ahead and stop you now,” I said, trying not to slur my words after my second double vodka. “You’re really hot and all, but I’m not in the market for whatever it is you’re peddling right now.”
He inched closer to me, a slow smile simmering on his impossibly kissable lips. “You don’t have the slightest clue what I’m peddling .”
“You just got done telling me that you’re some fancy pants businessman from New York City who got stranded in our little one stoplight town because your private jet is having mechanical problems,” I said. “So you’re staying here for an indeterminate amount of time, and you’re bored. You want a hook up. I can read between the lines. I may be drunk, but I’m not stupid.”
I slammed the rest of my drink and sat the glass down on the table, silently deliberating about whether or not I needed another. The room was slightly off kilter, but I fully intended to drink until I numbed the pain and forgot what it looked like to see my high school sweetheart’s pale white ass bobbing up and as my spread eagled stepsister screamed out his name in pleasure.
And then he had the nerve to finish inside of her before I had a chance to bolt out of there. The vision of his clenched ass cheeks and strained neck as he moaned like a wild animal while simultaneously releasing himself inside her was forever burned into my mind.
I shook my head, as if that could rattle the memory out of there. It seemed weird that I didn’t cry. Not once. I didn’t shed a single tear. Maybe I didn’t love him as much as I thought I did? It was being lied to. That’s what stung the most.
“Louie, another vodka tonic, please!” I called out.
He prepared another drink for me and slid it my way. “You going to stay the night, Maisie? You’re in no condition to drive home.”
“Maisie,” the businessman said slowly. “That’s your name.”
I’d refused to tell it to him earlier.
“Thanks a lot, Louie,” I mumbled. I took a sip of my fresh drink and let it burn as it trickled down my throat. “So what’s your name? Since you know mine now and all.”
“Sawyer,” he said. “Sawyer Thomas.”
“Oh, wow, just like that now we’re on a second name basis,” I said, eyeing him up and down. “That’s smooth. Still not telling you mine though.”
He raked his fingers through the side of his sandy brown hair, his hooded hazel eyes honing in on me like two sexy, concentrated lasers. Through my inebriated state, I couldn’t tell if he was amused, intrigued or annoyed with me. Maybe it was a little of everything.
“I don’t want to have sex with you,” he said.
I cocked my head to the side, my lips spreading into an amused grin. “Way to be blunt.”
“You’re a little mouthy for my taste,” he said. He turned away from me, focusing on the T.V. above the bar that played highlights on some sports channel. The glint of his diamond cufflink caught the pale bar light above as he spun his drink with his fingers.
“You probably like ‘em quiet so you don’t have to hear them complain about that poor excuse for a cock you’re packing,” I said. My cheeks reddened. I never spoke to strangers that way. It wasn’t my nature, and I was raised better than that. I was drunk. I was angry. I was taking everything about
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