The Bartender's Guide To The Galaxy

5 - Half a Hook-up

Cabe's hotel fronted the ocean, and at two o'clock in the morning, we had the entire stretch of sand to ourselves. He seemed confident his hotel key gave us a free pass to the beach there, but I knew we were technically trespassing after dusk.

To play it safe, we sat against the dunes, hidden from view, and shared pieces of our lives. He told me what led to his parents' divorce and talked about his sister who managed a chain of bagel shops with her wife. And I told him that I was lucky to have been raised an only child, given that my parents should have stayed childless.

"Did you have any mentors when you were growing up?" Cabe asked as he drew circles on the back of my hand with his thumb.

"My track coach and I got really close. Still are, actually. She was there for me when my parents weren't. We meet for lunch once in a while."

"Tell her thanks for me the next time you see her."

"Why?"

"Because she must have given you some excellent advice. You're a pretty amazing person." We took to staring at each other while the surf swooshed back and forth. "Who did you inherit your pretty face from? I know it sounds corny, but you have beautiful bone structure."

His self-deprecating attempt at flattery gave me an excuse to chuckle, which hopefully covered my embarrassment. "It's from my mom's mom. She's Swedish. She moved to the states to attend college back in the seventies."

His finger brushed my chin, and he lifted it, bringing us face to face. "I know we've just met, but I would really like to kiss you."

I glanced at his lips, remembering the first time I imagined them on me. "I would really like that too."

My focus remained on his eyes, and I indulged in the galaxy floating there as he leaned in slowly, hesitating. Was he having second thoughts, or was he savoring the moment? Whatever the reason, my heart pounded and my thighs clenched as I waited.

Soft and warm, his lips touched mine, soothing me after the craziness of the day. It was as good as I'd imagined. He opened his mouth, and I met his tongue, swirling around it like a cocktail straw. His fingers sifted through my hair, setting off a ripple of chills across my scalp. He pulled away before I was ready, but we were both smiling.

"That was nice." He offered his compliment as he swept my bangs behind my ear. "Can I make a confession?"

"Isn't that what bartenders are for? Plying people with alcohol and listening to confessions?"

Smiling, he scooped up my hand again. "I wanted to kiss you as soon as you brought me that first pour. You made the guess without worrying about getting it wrong. A lot of people wouldn't take risks like that. You're fearless."

That was one way of putting it—the nice way. "First off, you encouraged me. But I'm glad you weren't put off by it. I've been told I'm presumptuous and recklessly overconfident."

"Who told you that? Derek?"

"He's one. But I've had a couple of professors tell me the same thing."

He snorted. "Let me guess. Those professors were male."

"That's a reasonable assumption, but one was female. And you don't have to prove you're a feminist to earn points with me."

I tugged on his hand, bringing his body closer, and we kissed for a while longer, our hands roaming to various intimate body parts. He was playing with the seam of my bra when hotel security found us.

"The beach closes at dusk, folks," said the nice man blinding us with his flashlight.

"Sorry. That's my fault," Cabe said. "I'm a hotel guest. I assumed that included privileges to the beach after hours." He fished inside his pocket and pulled out his key card as proof.