Betting on Bailey

She’s right, but Trevor’s not what I want to focus on right now. “Daniel and Sebastian were nice,” I say aloud. “I mean, they offered to teach me how to play pool, and they didn’t have to do that. But come on, Gabby. I barely know them.”

She rolls her eyes. “As if knowing someone is a prerequisite to good sex,” she quips dryly.

Gabby might like to pretend that she’s the queen of casual hookups, but I know better. Her desire to keep things superficial with the men she dates isn’t because she doesn’t want something more lasting. Rather, it’s because a succession of absolutely vile men have broken her heart, and she’s formed a shell to protect herself.

“It is for me,” I reply. “I don’t have to fall in love with them, you know? I don’t walk around with stars in my eyes. But I think I have to like them before I sleep with them.”

Is that a lie? Had I ever actually liked Trevor? He’d taken me to fancy restaurants and he’d bought me flowers and I’d become smitten because I wasn’t used to being wooed. The luster had, however, faded fast.

“So Google them,” she suggests. “Talk to them, get to know them.”

She makes it sound so easy. “Would you do it again?” I ask her. “Your threesome, I mean.” I don’t know why I’m talking about this. Perhaps I need to say the word threesome out aloud, as if hearing the words spoken would snap me out of my crazy thoughts.

“I don’t do relationships, Bailey,” she responds quietly. “Not anymore. But,” she continues, “if I did, I would. Absolutely.” A wistful look crosses her face. “They were so good. For the space of one evening, I was the most treasured person in the world. They were very… attentive.”

It’s my turn to laugh at her. “Who’s getting all hot and bothered now?” I tease. “Sorry, dollface. You’re not my type.”

She shakes her head with a smile, but not before I catch a fleeting glimpse of the look of regret in her eyes. “Here’s my advice, Bailey, whether you want it or not. Everyone’s a consenting adult. If they are interested, then what’s the harm in something casual?”

“It’s only a fantasy, Gabby. Just because I have naughty thoughts about Daniel and Sebastian, it doesn’t mean they’ll come true. I’m not married to Brad Pitt, am I?”

She laughs. “Brad Pitt isn’t playing pool with you every week. Daniel and Sebastian are. It seems to me that you have an opportunity to make things happen.”

“I’m leaving for Argentina in the fall,” I respond.

“So what? I’m not suggesting a relationship, just some good sex to make up for the drought. The pool league isn’t a long-term commitment, is it?”

She’s right. Once this season is over, I won’t see my teammates again. A casual fling with Sebastian and Daniel will have a built-in shelf life, the same way my relationship with Ivan did. I was able to survive my breakup with Ivan unscathed, and I’m sure things would be similar with Daniel and Sebastian.

I’m sure of it.

Really sure.

Okay, I might be trying to convince myself. I can close my eyes right now and picture both of them in crystal-clear detail. I remember every word of our brief conversation. Thinking about the look of intent in their eyes, my skin erupts in goosebumps. I never had such a reaction to Ivan.

When it comes to my personal life, I’m extremely good at ignoring the obvious. “You are right,” I tell Gabby. “I’m done with the pool league in July, and I leave for Patagonia at the end of August. This might be a really good idea.”

9

To thine own self be true.

William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Sebastian:

It’s Wednesday. I’ve been working all week at Seb New York with Ben, and it’s been exhausting. The guy doesn’t pay attention, he can’t see problems starting to form, and he can’t get production out of the line chefs. The kitchen, normally a smoothly functioning machine, is struggling to cope with his waffling and his indecisiveness.

God, I miss Helen. I call to tell her that on Saturday night, after a grueling shift in the kitchen, and she snickers. “I should ask for a raise, Chef,” she jokes.