The scene she'd walked in on a half-hour before came rushing back. How could two people she trusted so much betray her so completely? Was it simply her? Did she have some sign tattooed on her that read "don't take me seriously, my feelings don't matter, walk over me, please"?
Doubts of her own self-worth flooded her mind once again. This pain ran far deeper than Brad Henderson, deeper even than when Greg, her ex-husband, left her, saying he couldn't live with a colorless bitch who wouldn't know passion if it bit her on the ass. Although she flinched, recalling his ugly words, she couldn't think of anything that had ever hurt worse than this. The wedding was in three weeks. She wondered how long they'd been sleeping together. Did they intend to stop once she'd married Jack?
Verging on hysterical, she laughed into the quiet interior of the car. She had no place to go now. Jack's treachery had left her alone and homeless.
"Oh, God!"
A fresh batch of tears welled up at the thought, and soon other thoughts--revenge, for instance--snuck in, but truth be told, she wasn't the vengeful type.
No, you're the pathetic, 'take advantage of me' type.
That was when she saw the man walking a Labrador across the parking lot. She gripped the steering wheel and wondered. Allowed her mind to wander all the places she never did. Maybe she was having some kind of mental break, but who could blame her? For today ... all bets were off, all rules she normally played by, out the window. Today she wanted to be anyone other than who she'd become.
Natalie decided to act like every other woman she knew; she really looked at him. Shirtless and wearing shorts, he strode across the parking lot as if he owned the world. The dog walked beside him adoringly and their casual stride declared that neither had a care in the world.
"How nice."
She sulked, then realized she'd done it again. She'd just looked the guy over and hadn't had one sexual thought. What was wrong with her? Maybe Jack was right. Maybe Greg had been right. Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she just didn't have it in her to be sexual like a normal woman.
Even as she thought it, that rebellious streak rose up and fought it. She banged her palms against the steering wheel in a somewhat childish show of that rebellion. "I am sexual!"
Before she could think better of it, she opened the car door, stepped out of the car, slammed the door on her skirt and had to reopen the door. Rolling her eyes heavenward, she refused to talk herself out of this. Yanking her skirt away from the door, she closed it again, then yanked the sweater part of her sweater set off and tossed it through the car window onto the front seat, leaving her wearing just the shell. It was the farthest thing from sexy she could imagine, but a new wardrobe would have to wait for another day.
She strode across the parking lot as if she owned the world, too, ignoring the nagging sound of her mother's voice in the back of her head. Enormous winged creatures attacked her stomach like some scene from a classic Japanese sci-fi film.
"Excuse me!" she hollered across the parking lot.
The man stopped and turned toward her, a puzzled expression on his face. Getting her first real look at his face, she slowed as she approached. Chiseled jaw, deep chocolate eyes, shaggy dark hair that brushed his shoulders ... and what shoulders. His burnished skin had a light sheen of sweat glistening in the summer sun. His chest was smooth, with flat brown nipples ... She started to feel that little surge of arousal: it made her giddy. He looked a bit like Kevin Sorbo. She liked Kevin Sorbo.
For just a moment, she hesitated, not sure she could go through with it. Never before had she done anything nearly this reckless, impulsive and potentially dangerous, but the pain in her heart was simply overwhelming and she had to make it stop.
Fuck it.
She smiled. She could do this. Drawing a deep breath, she threw out with no preamble, "Hypothetically speaking, would you sleep with me?"
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