The Two-Night One-Night Stand by Ryan Ringbloom Page A

circumstances?
    “What about you?” I ask, moving the conversation along before it gets any more uncomfortable. “Are you dating anyone?” I can only assume the answer is no, since he brought me back to his place for some more “mind-blowing” sex.
    “Not really.” His head rocks from side to side. “Although, I did kind of go on a date tonight.”
    “Tonight?” My eyes snap up to meet his and the uncontrollable claws all women are born with instinctively come out. “What happened? It didn’t work out, or was I just the easy mark you were fortunate enough to stumble on after the good girl went home?” I can’t stop myself from meowing the words out like a catty bitch.
    “Whoa. I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I just said that. It wasn’t like that at all.” He waves his hands and shakes his head. “It was Jeremy, the guy at the pizza place. The short guy, with the beard.”
    “Wait… what?” What is he trying to tell me? My eyes dart around the kitchen. I don’t know where to look.
    “It was nothing like that, it was just a big misunderstanding.”
    “Yeah, sounds like it was a big one.”
    “Well, misunderstandings are my specialty,” he says, raising a brow. I know he means this in a way that implies more than just Jeremy. He’s also talking about us.
    “But I guess you cleared everything up because you were at the pizza place together.”
    “We did. Fortunately, we were able to move right past it.”
    “That’s awesome. Most guys would probably freak out over something like that.”
    “It was just a kiss.” He waves it off.
    “A kiss?” I clear my throat.
    “Oh, um, yeah. There was a kiss.” He tenses but then relaxes, breaking into a grin that reaches all the way up to give a sparkle to his light eyes. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”
    He is.
    He totally is.
    “Um, maybe we should figure out the sleeping arrangements,” I say quickly, before the lust-induced heat rising to my face starts to deceive me. “I’m thinking your couch would be a comfy spot for me to crash.”
    “No, you take my bed and I’ll sleep out here.”
    “I’m not taking your bed. The couch is fine.” Now that my belly is filled with the proper hangover food, my eyes are getting heavy. “I just need a blanket and a pillow,” I say through a yawn.
    He opens a closet and pulls out a pile of bedding and a pillow. I stand back and watch as he transforms his couch into a bed. Sheet on the bottom, tucked in neatly, a warm blanket next, with a fluffy comforter on top. He fluffs the pillow, places it down, and pulls the arranged bedding back in a neat little triangle.
    “Wow, turndown service. I’ll have to make sure to leave a five-star review on Yelp.” I slip into the comfy makeshift bed and adjust the pillow. “No mint?”
    “I think I have Tic Tacs,” he says. I have no freaking clue if he’s serious or not, so I just laugh and roll over on my side before he goes in search of Tic Tacs.
    “Good night, Matthew.”
    “Good night, Holly.”
    “Thank you for letting me stay here.”
    “Of course. I’m….” He pauses. “I’m glad you’re here.”
    I don’t say anything and after a few seconds I hear his footsteps walking down his hall and the sound of water running for a shower of his own.
    I’m stranded in a strange guy’s apartment. One I’ve already made the mistake of sleeping with once, and almost repeated that same mistake with again only two hours ago. This is a strange circumstance to be in. But I’m oddly comfortable.
    Even though it probably shouldn’t, sleep comes easy.

 

     
    “WHAT IS PLANKTON?”
    “What is Toronto?”
    “Who is James Earl Jones?”
    The Daily Double pops up.
    “Okay, okay. Don’t answer this one. Give me a chance, I think I know this.” Holly sits next to me on the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest, my t-shirt stretched over her bare legs. It’s entrancing, the adorable way she plays with her socks, pulling them up and