Staring at a Mountain

Sympathy

"I don't know what the big deal is." Rhiannon shrugged her shoulders as she made her way into the club with her best friends.

The three women looked quite powerful together, each of them carrying their own air of authority. Natasha prided herself on her resting bitch face and killer curves. Wanda walked everywhere she went like an angel with a gun. Rhiannon always felt a bit outshined by her counterparts. She was a hair taller than Wanda and distinctly less curvy than Natasha. Her round hazel doe eyes were framed with thick dark lashes to match her wavy dark hair and her lips had a distinct Cupid's bow. With such an innocent face, she swore like a sailor.

"The big deal is, he's ridiculously hot." Natasha pinched Rhiannon's arm, reminding her of how long she had been painfully single. Natasha had been harping on Rhiannon all day about the "𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑡" guy she had scoped out last week when she went clubbing. She thought of Rhiannon immediately, he was exactly her taste. Aloof, handsome, too much money and an attitude that screamed '𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟'.

"Hot guys come and go," Rhiannon laughed, approaching the bar side, "self reliance is forever."

Little did she know, she had piqued the interest of the owner of the club sitting adjacent to her. He had heard her statement. She said it so confidently.

"Please, you rely on yourself plenty, she's just saying," Wanda piped in, "if you don't get laid soon, we're locking you in your room."

Rhiannon scoffed. Sure, she'd been stressed since her breakup with Tony but no more than usual.

She went from a comfortable sugar baby living in the lap of luxury with one of the youngest billionaires on the planet to crashing in Wanda's spare room but she wanted more.

Tony was heartbroken, offering to take her away to an island for a month so she would change her mind.

"The way I see it, there's not much sense in monogamy anyhow." The girls jumped in surprise at the sound of a man's voice intruding in their conversation.

Before Rhiannon could register, Natasha smiled knowingly and nodded towards the man. Turning around, she saw a man sitting on a barstool.

Lounging was more like it. His blue eyes bore dangerously into her own hazel orbs as he ran a hand over the scruff on his face. It wasn't accidental scruff from a lack of grooming, the man obviously knew how to take care of himself. She could see how he dressed himself as he repositioned himself to face the three women. He wore a white button down that was unbuttoned to expose a good amount of his chest underneath an obviously worn leather jacket, shirt untucked from his dark expensive jeans. They hugged loosely to his motorcycle boots.

Rhiannon would be lying to herself if she said he wasn't gorgeous. His dark hair was pulled back into a low bun on his head, his sharp jaw flexing as he swallowed the amber liquid in his glass.

Looking back at Natasha for a second, the redhead winked as if to say, '𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑚'.

Turning back reluctantly, she asked, "then what do you believe in, handsome stranger with all the answers?" She took a seat in the empty barstool beside him. He put up two fingers to the bartender before leaning an elbow on the bar.

"I believe in sex." He says simply, tilting his head to gauge her reaction. She narrows her eyes and a faux-frown graced her perfect lips.

"Let me guess, a mean ex-girlfriend ruined your concept of love and stability?" The bartender set two glasses of amber liquid down between them.

He almost laughed at her statement, she was so jaded. It was refreshing from the frequent moments of girls flipping their hair and batting their eyelashes at him. He didn't mind it, he adored promiscuous women. They didn't care what anyone thought and stuck their middle fingers up at societal expectations. Sex wasn't inherently evil and he found it bizarre how humanity turned it into a sacred thing.

He couldn't deny though, the look on her face that told him she wasn't amused by his antics made him want to pry open the tough shell that shielded her undoubtedly damaged soft center.

"Does that always have to be the case? An insecure, broken man who can't trust anyone? Doesn't anyone just want to have fun anymore?" He put a hand over his heart, feigning innocence.

"Rhiannon loves having fun. Right, Rhi?" Wanda butt in.

"So we have a name." He reaches out his hand towards her, "lovely to meet you, Rhiannon." She rolled her eyes at her friend before looking down at his hand. He had a silver ring wrapped around his middle finger and a couple scars littering the back of his hand.

Looking at the would-be handshake made her stomach twist uncomfortably for a moment before she reached out to meet him in the middle. His hand enclosed hers firmly, his skin warm and calloused. Despite looking so high-society, he had the hands of a working man.

"And you?" She leaned her head forward, waiting for his name.

"James." He says, barely loud enough for her to hear. He wasn't sure why he gave her his real name. It threw off his pattern he was used to.

She hummed before propping her chin up in her palm, "not Kyle or Chad. Or maybe something more dramatic like Adonis. I was expecting something more on-brand. Something-"

"Sinister?" Hid lips curled up as he finished off another drink.

"You took the words right out of my mouth."