by Ali Olson
Her eyes flew open wide and she looked at him, a little taken aback, but also pleased despite herself. Her thoughts ran quickly, trying to come up with something appropriate to say, but one question rose to the front: How does he know where I live? She was positive she’d never mentioned it.
As if he could see what she was thinking, he shrugged. “I was talking to Jeremiah, and when I said I didn’t know where you’re from, he told me. Apparently your friend is pretty chatty.”
For a second, she didn’t know who he was talking about; the only friend he’d met of hers was Cindy, and she certainly didn’t spend any time around Jeremiah. Then she realized he was talking about Marilyn. She was kind of her friend now.
He really didn’t know anything about her. That was a good thing for a single weekend, but was he asking to be something more than that? Or was he just looking for a friend with benefits whom he could hop on a plane to see occasionally?
She didn’t think she could do that.
Looking up at his body and into his eyes, she felt the pull of attraction. She wanted to see him again, but that could get dangerous very quickly, and she was not about to set herself up for more heartache. Jessica knew she had to make the safer choice, but she didn’t know how she could say no to seeing him again when all of her screamed out yes.
He was still looking at her, waiting patiently for an answer. She had to say something. “I don’t know.”
Neither of the sides within her was happy with that, but it was all she could say. The worst thing, though, was the look in Aaron’s eyes. Even though he put on a half smile and nodded, accepting her nondecision, his eyes dimmed with disappointment. She had to say something. She tried to explain herself.
“I like you, Aaron, and this weekend has been amazing, but I just don’t see that working out. I can’t be some girl you hook up with every once in a while when you come into town. I’m definitely not looking for a relationship, and I don’t think you are, either. That doesn’t leave us with a lot of options, does it?”
She wanted him to agree with her, yet she also hoped that he could somehow figure out a way to make the impossible work. He just nodded and leaned back on the bed, his eyes no longer digging into hers. She stared at the ceiling, wishing she could make him understand. Her thoughts started spilling out in a rush.
“Up until a few months ago, I was living with a guy named Russ. We’d been together for two years and had been talking about getting married. When I found out he was—”
She broke off, reliving the feelings of that day months before. She cleared her throat a couple of times and continued.
“When I found out he was cheating on me, it hurt me more than I can say. It almost destroyed me to see my life crumble like that. I can see now that it was really the best thing, that it would have been far worse if I hadn’t found out, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay.”
Jessica sat up and looked at him. His full attention was on her. She tried to lighten the mood, which had gotten far too heavy for her liking. “At least I know how screwed up I am, right?”
He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even smile. She said, “This needs to stay a fun once-in-a-lifetime thing. This isn’t the real me, you know,” she said, blushing, but didn’t look away. “I’d only ever slept with Russ before you came along, and I don’t plan on being with another guy until I’m ready to trust someone again.”
Their eyes were locked, and she saw his eyes darken and contract, but she wasn’t sure what he was feeling, whether he was angry or sad or contemptuous. After the silence had lingered until she was considering getting up and leaving, he finally responded, “You don’t trust me.”
She sighed, hesitant to tell the truth. “I barely know you, and the second time I ever saw you, you were draped across multiple women. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing,” she added, seeing he was about to argue. “I’m just saying we’re different, and I don’t think we could ever find a situation we’re both happy with. If you were never planning on having sex with those women and are an innocent guy who didn’t sleep around before you met me, you can tell me and I’ll change my opinion. Until then, I have to leave this as a wonderful weekend I’ll remember the rest of my life.”
After a moment, he shut his mouth, and she nodded. The part of her hoping for some response went into hiding deep inside her. She had her answer, and it was time to move past it. She said, “Can we just forget this happened? We don’t have much time left here. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow, early in the morning, and I want to spend that time with you, if that’s okay.”
She waited hopelessly, knowing her magic weekend had turned back into a pumpkin and her prince was gone forever.
Aaron sat up beside her, placed his hand on her cheek and guided her face toward his. He kissed the tracks that were left by the tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed, and then he kissed her passionately on the mouth, tantalizing her with his tongue until she was nearly crying again, though she didn’t know why.
In his quietest voice, he said, “One wonderful weekend, then. We better make the most of it.”
He kissed her again, then stood up, smiling his carefree, jaunty half smile. She noticed it didn’t fully reach his eyes, but she wasn’t going to demand more. “But first, we need to eat something. Have you had anything?”
As she shook her head, he went to the closet and pulled out two long white robes. He slid one over himself, and she felt a sting of remorse as he tied the belt around his waist. She wasn’t in the mood to eat, but he held out the robe to her, so she got off the bed and allowed him to place it on her and tie it around her with gentle fingers.
The mood in the room wasn’t going to shift as easily as he seemed to hope, but Aaron clearly wasn’t giving up. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dining table and began revealing dish after dish. “I wasn’t sure what you would want to have for dinner, so I got a few very different things. Eat what you want. I’ll take care of the rest. We have a steak, medium rare, a salad with dressings and whatnot on the side and a gourmet pizza margherita from a little restaurant down the street.”
The last one caught her attention. “Wait, this wasn’t just room service? You actually went out and got a pizza?”
He chuckled good-naturedly, and his expression became a little more genuine. “I’m paying for two suites in this hotel and have yet to destroy any expensive property. When I asked the front desk where I could get quality pizza, they practically fell over themselves to make sure I got what I wanted. I think they’re used to guests that are a little more high-maintenance than I am.”
She laughed, and some of the anxiety that had been gathering inside her over the previous several minutes eased. She looked around at the funky-but-elegant décor, imagining the type of characters who would rent the Hard Rock suites. Compared to the disasters she could envision, Aaron must have been a godsend for the hotel.
He grinned widely at her, and she felt the tension in the room break completely. “Eat anything you like. It’s been sitting awhile now, so I can either heat stuff up in the kitchen or order some more. Just as long as you eat something.”
Once the stress of the situation dissipated, she realized that she was in fact quite hungry. She picked up the steak and the pizza, took them into the kitchen—which was bigger than the kitchen in her New York apartment—and began reheating them. As she did so, she called back over her shoulder, “You seemed to have forgotten that I’m not as tiny as most girls, so I’m afraid we might run out of food here if your appetite is anything like what it was at breakfast. I’m not going to be eating that salad, but I’ll eat either the steak or the pizza, or I’ll share fifty-fifty.”
She looked back at him and saw that he was already walking toward the phone. She felt pleased as she waited for the food to heat and knew that things were back on track. There was still a tiny knot of discontent within her, but she mana
ged to ignore it.
9
AARON HUNG UP the hotel’s phone after ordering a second steak. He liked that Jessica wasn’t shy about her appetite, and internally berated himself for forgetting that she had eaten almost as much at breakfast as he did. To be fair, he had hardly noticed the food on the table that morning. He had been listening to her and watching her lithe movements so intently that there hadn’t been any mental force left to pay attention to something as inconsequential as food.
He looked back over at her working in the kitchen and felt his spirits lift. He still had a tornado of emotions inside, but it felt as though he had a good grasp on them now, at least. He was embarrassed that he’d been shot down, disappointed that he’d never see her again, chagrined at how perfectly she’d pegged him and happy that she was still in his room, willing to spend at least this time with him.
He didn’t know exactly what made him decide to talk to her about seeing each other again, except that their time together was so incredible he couldn’t imagine her saying no. At some point when he was getting his room ready for her, the idea of visiting her in New York and spending hours in bed together, then walking around the huge city he’d only seen in movies seemed great. It would be sexy and fun and enjoyable for them both.
Her response had completely shocked him. Once he heard her story he understood, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a little wounded. Women rarely turned him down, and when they did it was simply something to shrug off. This time was different.
In fact, he felt different enough about Jessica that it was probably for the best that she didn’t want to see him again. He was getting far too hung up on her. Now that he knew without a doubt that things were over at the end of his stay in Vegas, he could just soak up the time he had without considering the possibility of creating some kind of arrangement for the future.
Aaron wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be awkwardness between them for the rest of the time they had, but he wasn’t positive how he could do that. He sat at the table and watched her. She was leaning against the counter, waiting for the microwave to finish. Her bare feet and long legs stretching down beneath the robe made her look at home even though she was in a strange kitchen in a hotel suite.
He spoke, trying to break the silence and get them on some solid footing. “What are your plans for tomorrow? Do you have anything you need to do with your friends?”
He’d given her an out if she didn’t want to see him again, but he hoped she didn’t take it. She turned toward him, and the spark that alighted every time he looked in her eyes blazed up once more. She tilted her head, as if thinking. “We’re supposed to be going to one last celebratory dinner that I should definitely go to, but I’m not sure what time it’ll be. Probably around seven or eight. Beyond that, they’re all shopping the whole time, and I’d prefer not to go through that again. Our flight leaves around eleven in the morning the next day.”
So she was still willing to spend the majority of her time with him. He could accept that, even if there was an expiration date. “Great. If you don’t mind, I’ve got some ideas of things to do tomorrow. You’ll be back in plenty of time for your dinner.”
“Back? We’re going away somewhere?”
He nodded. He could tell she was curious, but he didn’t say anything else. He just smiled at her, enjoying the moment. Finally she asked, “Are you going to tell me where?”
“Nope.”
She laughed. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll have to wait and see.”
“Yep.”
They looked at each other, enjoying the moment. The knock on the door broke the companionable silence, and he tore his eyes from hers. “It’s room service. Now we should have enough for a proper dinner.”
As he walked over to the door and got the rest of their meal, he could hear her in the kitchen. By the time he was back, the table was in order, the salad shunted to the side, the steak meal in front of her and the small fancy pizza in the middle, both steaming hot. He set the new portion in front of his own spot. “Are you sure you don’t want the new one?”
“I like mine more medium well, so this is perfect now. I don’t like my cow while it’s still mooing. You go ahead.”
They sat down and began eating. While they demolished their steaks and even shared some of the pizza, they chatted about their lives. The barrier was broken, and talking about what went on in the real world felt natural. He listened to her talk about her job as an editor and her quest for a new apartment.
“I’ve looked at a dozen places, and they’re all either way out of my price range, somewhere a murderer would live while he hid from the cops or a place I would have to share with a roommate. Nothing against other people, but Cindy’s about the only one I can stand in small quarters for very long, and her apartment is huge.”
We seem to get along fine.
He pushed the thought away, but there was just enough of a pause for him to wonder if she thought the same thing. That was not Vegas-fling kind of thinking, though, so he brought the conversation back to safer territory. “How did you and Cindy manage to get such a great apartment?”
“It belongs to Cindy’s parents. They have a ton of money. We pay rent, but it’s nothing close to what we should be paying for that kind of space.”
“Have you ever thought about leaving the city?” he asked, purely to keep the conversation moving. It in no way affected him either way.
He tried to ignore how false that excuse was.
She paused. “I’ve considered it, but I’m going to stay in New York for now. Maybe I’ll move someday.”
She was holding back something. He wanted to ask, but if she didn’t want to talk about it, that was fair. This wasn’t a long-term relationship or anything.
That thought bugged him more than he wanted to admit.
She pointed her fork at him. “And what about you? You have a ranch, but I don’t really know what that means. Are there cows or something? Do you spit tobacco into spittoons after you’ve rustled up some cattle thieves?”
Her questions amused him to no end. “Is there anything you know about ranches that you didn’t get from a movie?”
“Well, I’ve read Of Mice and Men. It’s one of my favorite books. Is it more like that? Wrestling grain bags and all that? Are you the owner’s son who picks on Lennie and gets what’s coming to him? You don’t seem like a Curley, but that’s all I’ve got to base my guesses on.”
“Yeah, you’ve clearly read that book too many times. Ranches aren’t exactly like that anymore. I’ve got some people who work for me, but they come to work every day like normal people. No bunkhouses or anything like that.”
Her smile widened and she raised one eyebrow. “Sounds like I’m not the only one who’s read that book too many times.”
He smiled back. “Yes, but that’s not where all my working knowledge of ranches come from. I don’t base my entire concept of New York on Catcher in the Rye or something.”
“Well, then tell me about it and stop getting off topic. I’ve been waiting for, like, five minutes to hear about ranches.”
God, he loved talking to her. She could add fun twists to any conversation, it seemed, and her dry humor was incredible. “There is a small garden with vegetables, but that’s just a side thing because going to the store is a pain and I thought it would be fun. We mostly do horses. We give lessons and enter competitions, but most of the income is from breeding and selling.”
She gestured at the opulent room around them. “It’s so weird to me that selling horses earns enough to let you get the fancy suite when you go to Vegas. Do you always get to live the high life, or is this just a once-a-year thing?”
He never really liked talking about his money, but he felt it would bother him more to not explain the reality of the situation. It would almost be like lying, and he didn’t want to l
ie. Not to her. “Well, I don’t normally spend crazy amounts of money on things, but money isn’t really an issue. My parents bought the ranch before I was born. A few years later, when I was a little kid, they found oil on the land. There’s enough saved up to keep things going.”
He hoped she didn’t ask more questions, because he didn’t want to have to say exactly how much money his family had.
“And you’re still on the ranch? Why didn’t you go all Beverly Hillbillies and find someplace else to live in a city or something?”
“My parents bought the ranch because they wanted to live on a ranch, so the oil was just a bonus. They got a divorce and my dad moved to Houston when I was about seventeen. They sold the mineral rights to the oil so they could split everything, but my mom refused to give up the land. She loved the ranch and stayed there until she died six years ago. I came back from college to keep everything running smoothly.”
“And you still live there. Is anybody else there with you?”
“No. I have a sister, but she moved to Washington, DC, for college and hasn’t even considered coming back. My dad’s still in Houston.”
He didn’t like dredging up the past, and hoped she wouldn’t ask any more questions. His dad’s infidelity, his parents’ divorce and his mom’s death were topics of conversation he avoided whenever possible. Her eyes held sympathy for him, which with most women would have annoyed him, but with her it was almost a little comforting.
“Do you want to talk about all this?”
“No.”
He waited to see if he’d been too blunt, but she just nodded and stood up, piling their plates together. “Well, then, what should we do? We can go out on the town, watch a movie or whatever else comes to your mind.”
“You realize I’m a guy and you’re wearing nothing but a robe in my hotel room, right? Because if you’re serious about doing something that comes to my mind, it could get graphic pretty fast.”
