Page 26 of Player For Hire
“Look, I have a hard time writing those scenes.”
“So watch porn like everyone else. I have some links.” Iona grinned and hopped up on the kitchen island as I handed her a coffee mug full of the dark chocolate gelato. Another bit of nostalgia there too.
How many times had we done this exact thing back when we lived together? Usually while talking over Iona’s latest boyfriend…or girlfriend. She’d tried them all in college.
Me? Not so much. Trent was not the first dud I’d dated in my life.
“I’ve tried that.” My face felt way too hot. Why did it embarrass me so damn much? I shoved a bite of gelato into my mouth and spoke around it. “But the scenes always suck. I end up deleting every single one.”
“That’s what a good editor is for. Besides, you have a great imagination. I can see that with the rest of the story.”
I sighed. “Not about that. I’m pretty sure the only one who has given me a decent orgasm is me. And even that was sad.”
“First of all, you should definitely be able to do things on your own. Put some hot music on—I highly advise BANKS if you need to get in the mood.” She fanned her face. “That girl has some beats. Or Hozier can definitely get you there if you have a gummy and some wine.”
I laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
“Look, I’m on the road all the time. You’ll have plenty of alone time in here without me if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I stabbed my spoon into a chunk of fudge. “Maybe. But I don’t even know how to get myself in the mood half the time. How sad is that? I’m twenty-seven and have barely had a good enough orgasm to talk about it with one of my best friends.”
Iona licked the back of her spoon. “Well, you are in a brand-new city. Sign up for one of those apps.”
“God, no.”
“Don’t knock it.” She hopped off the island and rinsed her mug, sticking it in the dishwasher. “Bet Colder could help you out.” She gave me a sly smile. “I saw how he was looking at you. I mean, you need to know what you’re getting into, but there’s no bad with him. He doesn’t have any stalker, asshole vibes.”
I toyed with the frayed drawstring on my sleep shorts. “He did almost kiss me today.”
“And you didn’t lead with this earlier?” She leaned on the counter, her wine glass in her hand, her attention solely on me.
“You kinda stole my laptop, remember?”
She rolled her eyes. “I feel like this will actually fix two things here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Okay, first of all, it’s not ridiculous. You’re stupid hot,” she waggled her fingers at me, “especially with that girl next door thing that makes men all frisky.”
“I don’t think anyone has been frisky for me or even overly interested in years.”
“Oh, they are, but you’re so damn oblivious. At least four guys checked you out last night. Another reason why Colder kept coming back down to our end of the bar.”
“Stop. He was not.” I scraped the last bit of gelato out of the bottom of my mug, then I rinsed and put mine in the dishwasher, as well. I was a natural tidier when I was nervous. I pulled out a cloth and started wiping down the counters.
“Sure was. Now tell me about this kiss.”
“There was no kiss. There was almost a kiss.”
“And how did that happen?”
I told her about our afternoon at the Library Café and how we walked to and from in the rain. How easy it had been to be around him and how funny he was.
“And you don’t think he’s into you? What guy does that without an end goal?”
“He’s got player status all over him. I get it, especially wearing those gray sweatpants. Dear God. I know people have talked about them on the internet and all that, but seeing a guy actually wear them?” I lifted my wine glass for another sip. “Yeah, criminal.”
Iona refilled both our glasses. “Tell me more.”