by Claire Adams
Amy was sliding her jacket on as I reached to pull mine off the coat-rack.
“Were you paying any attention in those meetings at all?” Amy asked me.
I chuckled. “Not unless it directly pertained to me, no.”
“Those meetings are boring as fuck,” concurred Lisa. “You’re lucky you got to relax. I couldn’t. Pete can barely keep his eyes off me.” Pete was the assistant regional manager and usually the one who ran the meetings.
“I wouldn’t say I was relaxing,” I said. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
Amy and Lisa shot each other a look.
“I didn’t want to be nosy,” Amy began, “but I did want to ask you about it.”
“About what?” I asked.
“…You and Jared breaking up,” said Amy.
With my thoughts occupied by Sawyer, I had already managed to forget about Jared entirely. With his name being brought up, my thoughts then went back to the day before and the awful conversation that took place between us out in the snow.
“Oh… yeah…” I uttered.
We began making our way out of the building.
“How have you been doing since you two broke up?” Amy pushed.
“Not great,” I answered honestly. “I’m trying not to focus on it too much.”
“Then what were you thinking about in the conference room?” Lisa asked. “It looked interesting.”
“‘Looked interesting’?” I asked, amused. “What do you mean?”
“You could have had the words ‘No Fucks Given’ written on your shirt,” said Lisa. “It was so obvious that you weren’t thinking about selling printers.”
“Was it really?” I asked, directed mostly at Amy.
“A little bit, yeah,” she concurred.
I decided to not let it bother me that, most likely, the entire room was silently judging me for being a poor coworker. In fact, I also suddenly heard Sawyer’s voice saying, “Who gives a shit what other people think?” As much as I liked my other coworkers, I didn’t feel the need to explain myself to any of them.
I considered telling Amy and Lisa about Sawyer and the bet, but I decided against it. I knew they would just blame this bizarre turn of events on my breakup. I also didn’t feel the need to be psychoanalyzed or be told that I was crazy. I didn’t know if I could handle hearing their opinions just yet.
“So…” said Amy. “What happened with you guys?”
“Me and Jared?” I said. “I… he cheated on me. So, I broke up with him.”
Amy and Lisa slowed their pace, and I instantly regretted opening my mouth.
“Oh, that sucks, Hannah,” Amy said. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Hey, it happens,” I said with a shrug.
“Who did he cheat on you with?” Lisa asked with real interest.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “I don’t care, either.”
“How do you know he cheated?” Amy asked.
“He told me,” I said. “He had been acting weird and…” Even though Jared had been making it easier for me to let him go, that didn’t change the pain I felt from the betrayal. “You know, I’d rather not talk about it right now, if that’s okay. It’s still kind of fresh, you know?”
Lisa put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. I patted her hand, just in time for Amy to put her hand on my other shoulder.
“Thanks, girls,” I said to them.
“Well, then it’s for the best, anyway,” Lisa said.
“Lisa, what the hell are you talking about?” Amy asked, feeling insulted for me.
Lisa shrugged. “I just mean, he cheated! If he’s someone who’s going to cheat, then why would we want Hannah to be with him, anyway?”
Amy nodded with consent. “Good point.”
“You’ll be grateful for this, hon, I promise,” Lisa said to me. She smiled in a reassuring way.
“I know, it just hurts is all,” I said.
“Jared is out there getting his…” Lisa began, her mind racing with intent for mischief. “Now, you need to go get yours. Let’s go get you fucking laid, girl!”
I laughed, dreading whatever it was Lisa was concocting in her mind.
“That’s okay, Lisa,” I said. “I can get ‘mine’ just fine all by myself.”
“Well, yeah, anyone can fucking do that,” said Lisa. “But not everyone is as sexy and awesome as Hannah Stone, are they?”
“No, I guess not,” I said jokingly.
“Right, so let’s go out tonight!” Lisa exclaimed.
“Uh, no,” said Amy.
“Why not?” Lisa asked.
“We have work tomorrow?” I surmised.
“That, and I’m done going out,” elaborated Amy.
“Why wasn’t I tagged in this update?” Lisa asked Amy.
“Since the fourth guy in a row who I slept with fucked me drunk and left in the early morning without saying one word to me,” she answered.
I wanted to steer the conversation in the right direction. “We could go out tomorrow?”
“Yes! Yes!” exclaimed Lisa. “Sushi and booze, bitches! Are we down?”
“I can’t this Friday,” said Amy.
“What about—” Lisa asked.
“Or this weekend,” Amy added quickly.
“Come on,” I added. “What about next weekend?”
I hadn’t intended it, but it seemed like Amy was folding out of perceived guilt.
“Okay. Next Friday, we’ll do drinks, sushi, and karaoke,” she said.
“Fuck yeah!” said Lisa.
We were approaching our cars in the parking lot. As Lisa went off her own way, Amy lingered back with me.
“You’re young, you’re smart, and you’re great,” Amy said to me. “You don’t even need to be married right now. Hell, I still don’t know what I want in a guy, I keep ending up with losers.”
“I thought maybe he was going to propose to me,” I admitted out loud.
Amy stared at me in shock. Even though Jared cheated, I still had a feeling that he wanted us to be engaged at one point. I wasn’t sure of his motives, whether it was out of love or out of a desire to have a hold over me. Whatever reason, I knew I felt it. I tried not to focus on it.
“So, you really don’t know who he cheated on you with, huh?” Amy asked.
I shook my head. “I’m not mad at her. She’s not the one who set out to hurt me.”
“Well… still. I’d be curious.”
I grinned. “You’re young, smart, and great, too, you know? Don’t give up on a social life just because of a few dickhead guys.”
She smiled at me, and we hugged.
“Thanks, Amy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I sat in my car, and within seconds, my mind had drifted far away from Jared and returned to Sawyer and his bet.
Chapter Six
Sawyer
The fierce winds were brutal as I drove through town on my motorcycle during snowfall. You could only seat one on the Kawasaki, but that didn’t stop women from checking me out. And even though guys were jealous of me, many of them did like the bike. I didn’t get the motorcycle because I wanted to pick up girls (that was just an added perk); I got it because I wanted it, and I usually got whatever I wanted.
What I wanted at that moment were Hannah and her body. As I exited a major part of town and found myself on an icy road, I realized I had to pocket those thoughts for less frozen asphalt.
There was an eerie quiet around me, cut only by the winds. I liked hearing only the sounds of nature and my engine reverberating through the trees and scattered buildings. It gave me both serenity and a sense of danger at the same time. I loved it.
I never went looking for danger, and generally, danger didn’t look for me too often, but whenever it did, I would face it with an open mind and open arms. I liked a good challenge because life can be pretty underwhelming at times. Sometimes I’m looked at as arrogant when really, I would prefer to be looked at as honest.
Befor
e I knew it, I was pulling back up to the spot taken up by my Camaro and parking my bike behind it. I took off my helmet and tossed it in the back of the Camaro.
I went toward Hannah’s apartment, the cold spare key in my hand. I wasn’t sure whether she would be in yet or not, but either way, I had to formulate a solid plan.
I knew that she enjoyed how much she was turning me on last night. I knew that my options were to either move out of the gate fast and relentless or to keep my distance until the perfect opportunity arose.
She’d already admitted that she liked my body, so I knew if I needed a good card to play, I could always just take off my shirt. She clearly didn’t have an important guy in her life because she wouldn’t have allowed me to stay for a month without bringing said guy up in one of our conversations. I thought about taking her out for drinks. There, I could ask her about her past with guys and her romantic history. After that, I could use my way with words to get me the rest of the way. And, of course, there was always the ride home in the back of a cab…
But I believed that she would be anticipating that, so I abandoned that idea. I thought about doing something simple, yet effective: watch TV on the couch together. It was January in Wisconsin, and I had yet to meet one woman who was unaffected by the frigid conditions. I would then offer to help warm her up, and naturally, one thing would lead to another. In such close proximity, there was no way she could deny the physical connection between us.
Then, I thought about how Hannah might be a girl who was going to make me wait because she needed to know me first. Unlike almost every other girl I sought, I didn’t originally seek for Hannah to become a one-night stand or even a sex buddy. I was looking for a place to stay near my old apartment, and my next-door neighbor just happened to be both accommodating and sexy. Until the day I knocked on her door, I hadn’t realized how attractive she was. I also didn’t know how nice she was, and I didn’t originally think she would even let me stay.
It was in this briefly depressing moment that I contemplated ending the bet altogether and considered trying to change my act with her.
Since I was actually starting to like her, I decided to pull out my phone and look through the names of some girls whose feelings I wasn’t going to take into consideration. I wanted to get laid. I was horny as hell, and Hannah’s reluctance had done something strange to my libido. I wouldn’t bring a girl back to Hannah’s place, which would have interfered with our agreement, but I knew I could always convince a girl to take me back to hers.
I looked at past text messages, most from numbers that I hadn’t even bothered to save as a contact on my phone. The names of girls that I had taken the time to save all bore the same few last names: Tricia Tinder, Giselle POF, Bridget Tinder, Rachel Cupid, Ashley Blinddate, Ashley Bar, Lela Tinder…
I put my phone down, deciding against a booty call.
I reminded myself of my principles. I told Hannah that I was going to seduce her within thirty days’ time, so that was what I was going to focus on. As easy and as relieving as a booty call would have been, it would not have been nearly as satisfying to me. I knew that my thoughts would not be on the booty I had in my hands, but on what I didn’t have. What I really wanted: Hannah.
She came through the front door, letting in a rush of cold air before slamming the door shut. She took off her heavy layers to reveal her office wear underneath, which was still nice to look at. Her skirt wasn’t long like the one from the day before, and it really showed off her legs. Her top shirt button was no longer buttoned, and I was able to catch a subtle glimpse of cleavage. I was still unable to tell just exactly what size her breasts were, but I could tell they would fit in my hands.
“Hey there,” she said to me.
“Hey, what’s up?” I replied.
I wondered whether sleeping with her would complicate things. I knew if I were to ask my boys or any of the guys I worked with for their opinion, they would tell me that having sex with her was a terrible idea. In fact, I knew most of them would have told me to go back to my booty call plan.
I told her before that I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I told her I didn’t even want to entertain the notion. I was honest. I had done everything on my end, and it was going to be up to her how she chose to respond. She was going to get what she gave back. If we did happen to hook up, and she were to react negatively to how I handled things after, then I knew I could figure out what to do about living arrangements.
“How was your day?” she asked me as she walked into her bedroom.
“It was all right,” I said. “Same ol’, you know how it goes.”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she said from her room.
I figured she would crack in a couple of days anyway and sleep with me, so I decided to play it cool and let her come to me. She was so hot; she was worth the wait.
“Everything okay?” I asked her.
Silence. I thought maybe she hadn’t heard me.
“Hannah?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “It’s just been a long day. And I’m freezing. And my feet are killing me.”
The wheels didn’t even have time to spin. “Why don’t you come sit on the couch, and I’ll rub your feet?”
Silence.
“Thank you, but no thank you,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
I felt more assured that the weekend was indeed the time to make a serious play.
Friday came and went quickly. We both had work, and when I got back, Hannah had beaten me home, which was unusual for us. She was in her room with the door shut. I considered knocking on her door, but I again suspected that this was the simple move that she was anticipating. So I turned on the TV in the living room and I made myself a sandwich in the kitchen, making little noises whenever possible so that she would know I was there and available for whatever she wanted. But as I sat and watched a football game, eating my sandwich and chips, never once did Hannah come out of her room. It was only at night, when she came out to brush her teeth, that I finally saw her. I only saw her for about twenty seconds total, and it was dark enough in the hall that I could barely make out what she was wearing as sleepwear. It was a basic t-shirt and yoga pants, yet it looked alluring as hell on her. I spent a good portion of that night masturbating.
Then, the weekend came, and again, I barely saw her at all. I caught her just as she was about to go out the door on Saturday. She told me that she had errands she needed to do. I chilled at the apartment and waited. I went out and bought some alcohol at a nearby liquor store, hoping that I could entice her after her errands. Saturday night appeared, and it wasn’t until close to ten o’clock that she finally reappeared. She said that she was surprised to see me just hanging out and not out “having fun.” I didn’t know if she really believed what she said because I felt like she had to see the sexual frustration etched into my face.
Before I could offer her a drink or another rubdown, she was in the bathroom, showering and getting ready for bed. My focus returned to the TV, and she returned to her bedroom. I considered knocking again, but before I instigated, I suddenly heard her laugh in my head, the one that suggested that I would never have any power over her. I stayed back and thought about the next day. Sunday came, and it was just like Saturday; she went out to run errands all day and didn’t return until late, where we would end up only giving each other useless small talk that lasted no more than thirty or forty seconds.
When Monday rolled around, that’s when I was no longer suspicious, and I felt almost completely sure: she was intentionally avoiding me. I woke up earlier than I normally did, and she was already gone. I returned from work later that day and once again, she was back in her room, with that damn door closed, taunting me.
It wasn’t like she was uncivil, but I knew that this was her strategy. Creating doubt and uncertainty was a brilliant plan because it wasn’t something I was used to. Girls never made me work for anything. Now, knocking on her bedroom door should not have been “work.” In fact, there were
times when I convinced myself that it wouldn’t have been a big deal to just knock and invite her into the living room to socialize. But for some reason, I couldn’t go through with it. I wanted her to come to me.
So, the week unfolded, each day presenting the same thing: we went to work in the morning without seeing each other or talking, she came home and holed herself up in her bedroom, and I would just be myself. I would take long showers and not rush to put clothes on. Starting that Monday, I was almost always without a shirt or pants. On the rare, brief moments when she would leave her room to get something to eat or go to the bathroom, I would ensure that she saw my body in case she needed a reminder of just how down I was.
Before I knew it, it was the next Friday. The week did not feel like it went by quickly. I felt every one of those painful, sexless seconds that passed by in Hannah’s apartment. I had twenty-two days until the seduction deadline, so I wasn’t worried about losing the bet, but I knew I had to think about how to change my game plan.
On that Friday, after work, I came home to find that Hannah was not there. Her bedroom door was open. I wasn’t sure where she was or when she would return.
Chapter Seven
Hannah
I was drunk, filled with high-volume alcohol and sushi. I went out with Amy and Lisa for a girls’ night, but I didn’t expect to enjoy myself. Not long into the night, I realized I was having a much better time than I thought I would.
We were at Bauman’s Brewery & Eatery downtown. Friday nights there also included karaoke. As drunken patron after drunken patron went up to the microphone to belt out tunes well outside of their vocal ranges, the girls and I were mostly discussing guys. We hadn’t brought up Jared, and I had managed to withhold all information regarding Sawyer.
I glanced up at the stage and saw a couple perform a duet together. They sounded fairly good, and they looked like they were in love.
“Hannah, did you check out the cute bartender?” Lisa asked me, her eyes darting to the bar. I looked and saw the bartender she was referring to. He was really cute and looked good in the outfit he had on, but he was a little too short for me.
