“Is that how you hit on women?” The booze had already gotten to me. I was buzzed and less inhibited.
“It’s how I figure out if they’re taken…and I hope you aren’t.” He drank from his glass as he kept his blue eyes on me. He was a pretty man, leaner in musculature than Slate but handsome all the same.
“I’m not. And that’s exactly why I’m drinking.”
“Bad breakup, huh?” He turned on his stool so he faced me, the side of his body leaning against the counter.
“Not exactly. But pretty much.”
“If you’re here looking for a rebound, I’m totally available.” If he weren’t so handsome, he might come off a bit creepy. He was extremely forward, and maybe that was normal for a bar in Manhattan.
I wouldn’t know; I didn’t go out much. “If you’re looking to get laid, you’re wasting your time with me. You’re a good-looking guy, so I’m sure you could pick up some other woman in here.”
“You think I’m good-looking?” he asked, his grin stretching further.
When he smiled like that, he looked familiar. Like I’d seen somewhere before but couldn’t place exactly where, his face resonated with me. It was unlikely that I’d ever met him, but maybe I’d seen him on the TV or a billboard. “I feel like I know you from somewhere… Have we met?”
“No. If I’d met you before, I would have remembered.”
I turned on my stool and faced him, still unable to place him. “I’m Monroe, by the way.”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I’m Wyatt.” He drank from his glass. “So, you want to tell me what happened?”
“You actually want to hear it?” I asked in surprise. He should move on to someone else, a woman who would get on her back in thirty minutes or less. Listening to my problems would just put him to sleep.
“Absolutely.” His hands came together as he prepared to listen. “Lay it on me. I’m a man, so maybe I can give you some advice.”
“I don’t think I need advice. This guy is just an asshole…nothing too cryptic.”
“Ouch,” he said with a cringe. “This guy hurt you good.”
“I’m sure you can see the puffiness under my eyes…”
He shrugged. “Your beauty covers it up pretty well. So, what did this asshole do?”
“Well…” I felt weird telling him the truth, but then I also realized I would never see him again. I wasn’t going home with him, so what was the harm? As long as I didn’t confirm Slate’s identity, it shouldn’t matter. “You’re probably going to judge me for this, but this man bought my virginity. In exchange for claiming my purity, he paid back my student loans. I only agreed to the arrangement because I was drowning in so much debt, and when it was time to do the deed…I chickened out. I wasn’t ready for it. So we spent a month together, going out to dinner and being together so I would feel more comfortable. I developed feelings for him, and I thought he felt the same way. So…we did it. And the next morning, everything was over. He wanted nothing to do with me.”
Wyatt could have called me a whore, but he didn’t. A lot of people would think less of me for giving up my virtue for money, but I didn’t care what they thought. I needed to do it to survive, to have some kind of future. Even though Slate hurt me, I would do it again in a heartbeat. Wyatt didn’t have an overt reaction, his face exactly the same, like he was waiting for me to elaborate even more.
“I called him, and he never called me back. I confronted him at his place, and he was a completely different person…said he got what he wanted.” I shook my head at the memory. “I know he’s just scared to be close with someone since he’s been burned in the past. But I can’t believe he’s this pathetic. He should trust me, should know I’m nothing like the people who ripped him apart. So now I’m here…drinking my problems away.” I grabbed my glass and took a drink.
Wyatt still didn’t say anything, but he didn’t look at me with judgmental eyes. “That’s harsh.”
“He told me that’s what would happen…but it seemed like we were closer than that.”
“A month is a long commitment for a man who can pay for any pussy he wants.”
A month wasn’t long enough for me. He’d just broken my heart and hurt me so deeply, but I still missed him…even after those tears cascaded down my face. “So, that’s why I’m drinking alone…and I don’t usually drink like this.”
“No judgments,” he said. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“You were an old virgin.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that before,” I said. “I was just waiting for the right guy…but then my loans crushed me.”