Good Girl(21)

Payton said Rhys needs to stop kissing me if he's not going to put out. I told her that gender equality works both ways and it's offensive for her to imply that a man is a tease for wanting to stop at kissing. I don't think I got through to her though because she fell asleep while I was talking. She had a Cheez-It in one hand and was splayed across the sofa like the errant toddlers I used to babysit in high school. I took the Cheez-It from her and covered her with a blanket before taking myself to bed where I lay awake for a long time, thinking about Rhys. Thinking about my reaction to him. Thinking about my feelings. Thinking, thinking, thinking.

I head into Monday more confident than I did exiting Friday, though.

A bit.

Enough to agree that it's not likely I'll get fired, but not enough to have a clue about what I'm supposed to do about Rhys. I really don't understand why he's so determined to avoid me. I felt how much he liked me on Saturday—literally, I felt it on my leg. So what's the problem? I'm not asking for him to marry me and father my children, for crying out loud.

Unless.

Shit.

Maybe that's it? Maybe he's tired of women using him for sex. It must happen a lot—looking at him, I can see how it would. I can't be the only girl who loses her mind at the sight of him. I bet he's sick of women treating him like a sex object. Especially when he has so much more to offer. Like, he probably does all sorts of things other than have sex. Like he might golf and… I'm drawing a blank about what else he might be interested in. Because I am a terrible person using him for sex. Ugh, no wonder he nearly shoved me off of him and left the bar.

But I like the way he kisses me. And I know that should fall under a sexual thing, and it does. But it also falls under something I simply just like about him. Something that showed me who he is when he's with me. I liked how he held me that first time he kissed me. The way his hand felt on my hip and the way he didn't push me for more or slide his hands to places that might have startled me in the moment. The way that it felt like he respected me, even though I was a stranger he was kissing in a bar. I liked it that he took me into the back office instead of kissing me in front of everyone the way a lot of men might have.

And the second time—well, I liked everything about that. The twitch in his jaw when he stood in front of me as I was playing darts with Josh. The possessive way he took my hand in his and walked us in back. Maybe I should have been irritated by that—and I suppose if I was interested in Josh I might have been annoyed. But I wasn't annoyed, I was thrilled. Thrilled to see Rhys again. Thrilled to have my hand tucked in his. Thrilled to have him to myself.

I liked the way he arranged us on the sofa so that I wasn't trapped underneath him. I liked the way he looked at me, like he was fascinated by me, like he wanted to devour me, like I was beautiful. I liked the way he laughed at me, his expression relaxing, the tiny lines by his eyes creasing from a lifetime of repetition. I like, I like, I like.

But are those all sexual things? Are all those likes me objectifying him? I decide I should work on finding more things that I like about him. Things that have nothing to do with touching and sex and feelings. Like respecting him for who he is as a person.

Good plan.

I mentally pat myself on the back as the elevator opens onto the fourth floor and I make my way to my desk. I call hello to my new co-workers as I pass and decide this is going to be a great week. Heck, I've already earned a new badge just for walking in the door today and I know Payton is working on more of them.

I am momentarily flummoxed by the dirty coffee cup I was forced to leave on my desk as I fled the building on Friday, but I refuse to be waylaid by a mug. Nope. Not happening. So I set my things down and take the offending cup to the break room. I wash it thoroughly and then place it in the dishwasher for good measure. Grabbing a clean cup, I use the fancy coffee machine to make a latte. See! This day is already going better than Friday, since I'm able to pay attention to the machine and I actually know what I'll be drinking.

I wonder if Rhys likes coffee? I've only seen him drink water and a beer, that first time at the bar. He drinks water really nicely though, so that's something besides sex and his face that I like him for. Another check mark in the win column for today.

Except, shit. Is it? Because it sorta turned me on—watching him take a sip of water. But does that count as something I like about him or does that count as objectifying him?

I suspect everything that I learn about him will turn me on though, so I'm not sure I can separate the things I like about him from the things that turn me on. Like if I learned that he calls his mom every Sunday that would both turn me on and be something that I liked about him.

This is oddly complicated.

I decide I'll ask Payton later how she differentiates things she likes about a man versus the things she finds sexually attractive about him.

Back at my desk I settle into my workweek, checking emails and double-checking my meeting calendar. The grand opening is in three weeks, which means new hire processing and orientations begin in earnest today for the front-of-house staff. Housekeeping, bell services, dealers, food services, front desk, recreation and on and on and on. The majority of the hiring is done, the interview process and background checks complete. The new hire paperwork, not so much. My life for the next month will be nothing but orientations, training and paperwork.

I'm giddy at the very thought.

You know how some kids play grocery store? With their little plastic cash registers and pretend money? Forcing their parents to purchase plastic oranges and empty cartons of cereal so they can bag up the order and make change for a fake twenty-dollar bill?