luck for the night - rl.

11. the most unsexy thing i could think of.

"Hey," I tried to smile, but worries took over my face. This was luck I did not deserve.

"Rylin!" Remington smiled. My name off his tongue, once again luck I did not deserve. Still, it made something blossom in my chest, something I did not understand nor could explain. It was just there.

"Is everything okay?" insecurity took over my mind. Was he here to tell me he made a super big mistake, that he regretted leaving me his phone number? That he regretted what we did? Was he putting the hot sauce in the proverbial condom?

Remington's brows furrowed. "Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

My overstressed brain slightly calmed down. Maybe, he did just want to hang out and have a chat?

"So," I said, putting down my phone on the small balcony table, just like I had done while calling Mel a few days ago, "what's up?"

Remington extended his arm, unintentionally showing his surroundings. He was laying on a dark green settee, somewhere. His hair was wet and of course, messy. There was no leftover makeup on his eyelids this time. Once again, his chest was bare, showing off the dark ink under his skin.

"I just played a show," He explained. I noticed how his face was flushed in a way I had not seen before. "And well," he continued, "I need to calm down a bit."

I slowly nodded. "So naturally, you call me," I raised an eyebrow, "the most boring person you know?"

Remington rolled his eyes. "You know that's not true. I just like talking to you. And... seeing you, and well... that."

That unknown warm feeling rose in my chest again, but I pushed it away. Weren't compliments basically luck? I needed a distraction, and fast. Luckily, I had brought the pack of cigarettes. So I put one in my mouth, lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You're such a bad influence," I teased Remington, blowing the smoke into the cold night air, "I stopped smoking, and then you give me this!" I gestured at the cigarette in my hand.

Remington's lips curled into a smirk. "You did not seem doubtful when I asked you to come smoke with me."

"Oh come on! We both know why that was!" I felt my cheeks burn.

Fuck, what is this guy doing to me?

"Yeah, we do..." Remington started talking slower. "I don't blame you for that, though." The man on my screen started to move. He got up from the settee, and I recognised that tacky type of wall decoration you would only see in a hotel. He sat down on the bed, his chest fully dominating the screen before he slightly moved his phone upward to show his face again.

I took another puff from my cigarette, not knowing what to do or where to look. Seeing him like this, his voice low and slow... It made me feel the same way as when he had kissed me against the wall, that cold night. Was he aware of the feelings he awakened in me, the desires?

"I really enjoyed what we did together," Remington spoke, every word seemed to stick to his tongue before he could say it. "I wish we could do it again, like right now." The last words were just a whisper, and a nervous smile played around his mouth for a second.

My lips parted in longing. "Me too," the words left my mouth before I could really weigh off the consequences.

"Maybe you should go inside, then."

A shock went through my body as a realisation hit my brain. "Oh, uhh," I said, not able to formulate a proper sentence.

I was torn. I did not want to do this, I did not want to turn into a girl he could just play like this. I wanted him, lust once more taking over my senses. But not like this. "Wait, give me a second, I'm sorry," I muttered, leaving my half-smoked cigarette in the pink bowl, my makeshift ashtray.