I had to agree with Jeff; there was something special about this woman, and I knew I had to find her. Glancing around the room, I noticed that there were only three men older than me, including Jeff. As new kids were coming in to take my place, I needed to begin considering my next step after hockey.
While I didn’t think it included marriage, I knew I couldn’t keep up with the likes of Josh, on or off the ice. Maybe this was all a lesson for me to see that I wanted more when I’d previously refused to admit that more even existed.
After changing into my training shoes, I decided to run a couple of miles before we began watching the film in preparation for our upcoming game against the Detroit Red Wings. By the second mile, I could no longer feel the pain in my knee, which usually meant it was nothing serious, most likely I’d just bumped it during the unforgettable sex. For the next thirty minutes, I replayed every detail of the night, from the moment I saw those big, beautiful blue eyes, until I collapsed next to her, draping my arm over her midsection before passing out.
No matter how many times I racked my brain for more details, I could never come up with a name. And although I remembered us talking during the fundraiser, I had little recollection of any information we’d exchanged; instead, I could only remember how her eyes sparkled when she spoke.
I didn’t have much to go on to find her, so I figured I should just enjoy the memories while they were fresh and accept that I wouldn’t see her again. In a week there would be another blonde stealing my attention, and I’d forget all about it, so I decided to just enjoy the mystery of it all, sure it wouldn’t last long.
Chapter Two
EMILY
“I just can’t believe it happened like that,” I closed my eyes after admitting to my best friend how I’d lost my virginity. I’d been on the phone with her while I soaked in the tub for close to an hour, trying to convince myself that last night was actually reality since it all felt like a dream.
“Well, from what I can tell, you had a good time, so there’s no need to beat yourself up about it,” Mariah pointed out. She was always the supportive and caring friend I needed, but our roles were a bit reversed for once. It was usually me telling her it would be okay after she had a one-night stand, now for the first time the shoe was on the other foot.
“It was better than good,” I joked while throwing my head back, closing my eyes as I remembered his strong hands gripping my body. I’d always envisioned giving my virginity to my husband, and as guilty as I felt for not following through with my commitment, I couldn’t help but find pleasure in the memories from the previous night.
“About that,” Mariah started before giggling and continuing, “what you described doesn’t sound like the typical experience, so don’t expect that every time. As a matter of fact, what’s his name? I might need to be on the lookout for him. Does he have any brothers?” She joked. I’d told Mariah everything I could remember about the night and she seemed to be quite impressed.
I described him in detail, just as I remembered – tall, with a muscular build, dark brown hair and big, beautiful brown eyes. His jawline was permanently in my mind, I don’t think I could forget it if I wanted to. When he smiled his jaw relaxed, and it was really attractive, but the image I had stuck in my mind was when he clinched his teeth as he pushed himself inside me.
I could still feel him nibbling my ear as he groaned and gripped my hips, pushing my pelvis to meet him with every thrust. The smell of his rosewood cologne still lingered when I closed my eyes. The memory made me squirm in the tub as Mariah’s question snapped me out of my daydream.
“Hello? What’s his name?” She reiterated, pretending to be annoyed.
Truthfully I knew she was enjoying this. She’d been my best friend since college, and although I’d had my fair share of boyfriends, discussing sex was an element of our friendship we’d never been able to share. While she was more than willing to divulge her sexual adventures in detail, there was always an understanding that I couldn’t fully relate. Now she was like a proud big sister helping me understand my feelings and plan my next move.
“Here’s the kicker,” I paused before admitting the embarrassing truth, “I don’t even know!”
“What?!” She bit out before laughing hysterically. I clenched my eyes closed, wishing I wasn’t on the phone so I could sink beneath the water.
“That’s funny to you?” I asked annoyed.
“I’m sorry, Emily. I really am. It’s just… You’re my perfect little best friend. I always imagined you losing your virginity to some nice little nerdy guy after a gazillion dollar wedding, right before moving out to the suburbs and having a bunch of babies,” she paused to giggle, and I took the opportunity to express my outrage with myself.
“Yeah, that was the plan, Mariah. And now it’s all ruined, over what? A cute guy at a fundraiser? I seriously cannot believe this happened. He probably thinks I’m all sorts of crazy,” I wondered aloud.
“Did you tell him it was your first time?” She quizzed.
“Yeah, and for a second I thought he was going to stop. He looked like… I don’t know like he felt like maybe he shouldn’t?” I tried to understand what was going through his mind as the memory replayed in mine.
“He most likely thought you’d be a clingy bitch, and instead you snuck out like a thief in the night! He’s probably thinking about you right now, wondering where the model virgin is. I can’t believe you didn’t even wait for him to wake up. You’re like a professional one-night-stander on your first shot!” She laughed again, and this time I laughed a little too.
It was completely outlandish how everything had gone down. And although I definitely had different ideas for how I would lose my virginity, I wasn’t disappointed with the experience, or the man, although I’d most likely never see him again. It hadn’t occurred to me that he might be worried I’d mistake the sex for love, but it did explain the apprehension he’d shown. If my memory was correct, he had a little fear in his eyes before he started. It didn’t take long for us to get so entangled in each other that nothing more than lust and desire looked back at me, but I knew he was worried about something in the beginning.
“I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I really wanted some coffee, but obviously, I wasn’t going to make any there, so I grabbed a Red Bull from his mini-bar. Those things are disgusting, Mariah! How do you drink them?” I cringed, remembering the taste of the sugary energy drink from earlier. Mariah always drank them when we partied, so I figured they couldn’t be that bad, but I was mistaken.
“I don’t drink them for their taste, silly. They’re like a jet fuel pack for the alcohol.” She clarified with a giggle.
“Yeah, well, I highly doubt he’s thinking about me at all. He seemed like a real playboy, but there was just something between us, Mariah. It was electric,” I tried to explain the feelings I’d experienced whenever he touched me.
He’d approached me at the fundraiser, and when he accidentally grazed my wrist, it was like a spark hit me. I could remember the look on his face, and I instantly knew then that he’d felt it too. His thick eyebrows scrunched together as he searched my face for some sort of explanation. For the rest of the night he kept pulling me around the party, wherever he went, I followed.
He was really touchy, but not in a sleazy way. His arms were draped around me once, but for the most part, he just rested his hand on the small of my back, or around my waist. It was very subtle, but he was always leading me. I kept trying to sneak away to find Mariah, but eventually, she texted me to say she was leaving, and because I wanted to continue flirting I told her to go ahead without me. Now I wished I’d made her meet him, then at least I would’ve been forced to introduce them, and I’d know his name.
“Are you on the pill?” She warily asked, again interrupting my memories of the previous night.
“Why would I be on the pill?” I asked with an attitude. Mariah knew I planned on saving myself for marriage and
never thought I would be having sex with anyone, let alone a one-night stand.
“Umm, so you don’t get pregnant?” She answered with a sarcastic question.
“He used a condom,” I shook my head as I remembered the detail, thankful that Mariah couldn’t see the embarrassment on my face.
“Well, that’s good. Now we just have to find this mystery sex god,” she teased.
“He probably won’t even remember me,” I sighed before sinking a little lower into the water, which was now barely lukewarm.
“Listen, Emily. I’m all okay to joke and play with you about how you’ve won the award for most shocking and sexually fulfilling, virginity story, but I won’t have you beating yourself up about this. Men fawn over you all day long, so I don’t give a damn who he is, there’s no way he forgets you.
I mean, you had fun, and he seemed to be respectful and actually pretty caring considering you two barely knew each other. There’s nothing to be ashamed about. You’re 28-years old, you have a great job doing something you love. Now, you’ve just found another thing that you like to do, maybe a side hobby for the weekends,” she joked, and we both laughed loudly.
“You’re right. I know you are. I’m just a little shocked. I need a few days to process it all.” I explained as I opened the drain, ready to get out of the tub. After an hour of soaking in my lavender oil bath, my skin was silky smooth.
“Did you at least tell him your name?” Mariah asked excitedly as if she’d discovered an important clue, but I’d already thought of that.
“I’ve been racking my brain trying to remember. I feel like it would be mandatory, of course, I’d tell someone my name after all we’d done, but no matter how many times I go through the details I can’t think of a time when I said it.” I stood in the bath before reaching for a towel and wrapping my slim frame.
“Just great. So neither side has any clues to crack this case!” She joked.
I told Mariah I’d call her later as I stepped out of the bathtub. After making me promise not to be too hard on myself, she finally let me off of the phone. I stepped in front of the mirror, unwrapping my body to get a good look at myself.
Although I felt different after my night with the mystery man, I looked exactly the same. My blonde hair hung down passed my shoulders, smelling like the expensive rose scented shampoo I’d gotten from my salon. The aroma was so intoxicating I refused to use anything else.
Something in my likeness caught my attention. Moving closer to the mirror, I stared down at my small breasts after noticing a red mark near my nipple. The memory of him sucking and gently nibbling my breast instantly aroused me, making my nipples grow erect. Shaking my head, I grabbed my robe before heading towards my bedroom.
I settled onto the white stool at my vanity, preparing to blow dry my hair. For the next twenty minutes, I smiled at my reflection, realizing I’d finally experienced what my friends had been raving about for years. When I was going off to college my mother had warned me that sex was overrated and the boys had no idea what they were doing yet, so it was best I didn’t waste my time.
I wished she were still alive so I could thank her for telling me to wait because anything less than last night wasn’t worth doing. I wondered how old my mystery man was because he sure seemed to have a lot of experience. It was like he knew my body better than me. Just as I felt myself losing control, he kissed my neck before whispering in my ear, “Let go. You’re gonna come for me, baby.”
I turned the blow dryer off as my body heated from the memory of his deep voice in my ear right before I felt my body climax for the first time. Mariah was right; he was pretty caring for a man that barely knew me. He even wrapped me in his muscular arms before gently kissing my neck and falling asleep. I had to slowly remove his heavy arm from around my body to sneak out of bed quietly.
Looking around my brightly colored bedroom, I tried to convince myself it would all be okay. No matter how much I wanted to do the opposite, my best friend was right again; there really was no reason to be hard on myself. There was nothing I could do but put it behind me and move forward. Besides, at least I’d removed the anxiety around my first time, and I’d more than enjoyed myself.
I settled on my bed before reaching toward my nightstand for my MacBook. Although I knew it would be a long shot, I decided to go through the Facebook photos for the fundraising event, hopeful my mystery man would be included in a photo-op. I slowly scrolled through each photo, looking at every detail, hoping to catch a glimpse of his beautiful eyes or that sexy jaw line.
I made my way through the entire album without any of the excitement dissipating. The mere possibility of seeing him gave me butterflies, but there was no sight of him in the album. I did come across a photo that included Mariah and I speaking to a handful of her colleagues. I remembered the interaction well. My best friend was such the life of the party, her outgoing personality never ceased to amaze me. I always admired how she could be so successful in a male dominated industry like investment banking.
She would always tell me that I could be more assertive too, but instead I seemed to be the pushover of the two of us. Mariah would speak up for me when she was around, but on my own, I usually ended up with the short end of the stick. We would joke that I’d be more aggressive if I didn’t spend all day with little girls in leotards, but gymnastics was my passion and teaching it to the next generation was the highlight of my life.
The thought reminded me that I had two private lessons with students the next day, so I made a mental note to pack my gym bag. I was grateful for my position as the gymnastics instructor at a prestigious private school, but coaching private lessons was what afforded me my huge apartment, which I loved but still looked forward to the day when I would have a home. Mariah would joke and call me Mrs. Cleaver, but the truth was I did want the white picket fence and the family life. I wanted to garden, and bake cakes, and take my kids to the park.
In a way, I worried that the previous night had ruined that idea from becoming a reality for me, because part of my fairy tale had now been tarnished, which made me question if any of it were still possible.
I wasn’t getting any younger, and I didn’t even have a love interest. I actually hadn’t been in a serious relationship in five years, and I’d come to completely doubt if I ever loved my ‘first love,' which was my high school sweetheart. In a way it seemed like everything else in my life was all set up – I had an incredible career that I loved, my apartment looked like it could be featured in an interior design magazine, I volunteered every other week at the local YMCA, and Mariah made sure my social life was eventful. All that was missing was love.
I couldn’t help the curiosity I felt towards the man I’d so excitedly given my virginity. His handsome face was etched in my memory, and I hoped I would be able to see him again at some point. The fact that I’d met him at a fundraiser hosted by one of Mariah’s clients probably meant that we didn’t hang in the same circles. The more I thought about it, the more I accepted I might never see him again. And maybe that was best. Could he really respect me after I slept with him without so much as knowing his name?
I tried to push the idea to the back of my mind as the guilt set in once again. Deciding to focus on my upcoming week, I got out of bed, heading into my walk-in closet before picking out clothes and shoes for the next day.
Afterward, I settled into bed, flicking through channels, looking for something to distract me from my thoughts. Passing ESPN, I saw a hockey game playing and thought of Mariah. I’d never met a girl more interested in hockey than her. I couldn’t make it through one game. Instead, I kept scanning until I saw The Notebook playing on the Lifetime channel. It was my favorite movie, so I decided to relax and watch it while wondering if I’d ever have my own love story worth telling.
I fell asleep thinking about my mystery man, dreaming of his hands all over my body once again.
Chapter Three
AIDEN
It h
ad been six weeks since the charity event where I met the blonde mystery woman that still owned my thoughts. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her crystal blues looking back at me, and every time I laid with another woman I imagined it was her beneath me.
For the first couple of weeks, I’d been able to find a release on the ice, my increase in stats was proof of how focused I was. It was the only time I could manage to clear my mind and not wonder what had happened to her. Now that I was sidelined with a knee sprain, it seemed like she was never far from my thoughts. Everything seemed to remind me of her and nothing could satisfy my craving. Our night together, or at least what I could remember of it, constantly played in my head, no matter what I was doing.
The sad reality that I couldn’t play the sport I loved, coupled with the fact that I also couldn’t find this woman, seemed to have me in a continuous funk. I kept hoping that she would find a way to contact me. It seemed like all the women I never wanted to see again had no problem keeping in touch. There was a constant stream of private messages on my social media profiles, and I regularly received random texts from women who’d gotten my number secretly, only to send provocative pictures. I began to speculate that maybe she didn’t want to get in touch with me, which was a new feeling. I’d never chased a woman in my life, but this mystery blonde was really pushing me to my limits.
The one woman I wanted didn’t seem to want me back. The irony was not lost on me. I checked all of the messages on every online account I had to be sure none of them were from her, but she hadn’t contacted me anywhere. I even tried to convince myself that one cute blonde in my inbox was her, but my memory wouldn’t let it slide. I could pick her out of a lineup of clones. That’s how well her image was fixed in my mind.
Southern Riders (Scars Book 1) Page 14
