21. Like a Million Bucks

21

LIKE A MILLION BUCKS

RECKLESS DRIVING, LIZZY MCALPINE FT. BEN KESSLER

Cara

Yesterday is a damn blur. From the bourbon tasting and people giving Manny and me compliments about our relationship, to the party, the closeness between us, and the kiss. The perfect kiss. I’m a good kisser, or I thought I was, but that kiss is making me question if I’ve ever even been kissed right my whole life. I never knew a kiss could not only touch your lips but reach your soul. Set your senses to overdrive and give you sensations only described in movies. Just one kiss and I’ll never be the same again. Where’s the new bracelet for that? The one that will help me remind me of that feeling.

My mind has been in overdrive since last night, reading between the lines and overthinking all the scenarios. All the what-ifs dancing in my mind and my body—well, my damn body. The slightest touch from Manny and my skin is on fire. He looks at me with his stupid smile and his backward hat, and I get goosebumps. And his damn cologne or soap or whatever it is that makes him smell spicy, woodsy and manly has me sizzling. Add the kiss to the equation and my body doesn’t know what to do.

We’re supposed to get ready to go to Nashville. My number one stop on this trip. I can’t wait to dance my heart out and to listen to live music for days on end. We rented a B sliding through them, I touch my needy clit which is ready to be teased. I circle it a few times while I pinch my nipple and moan, filling the room with the most indecent sounds. Sounds of pleasure and satisfaction; what better sounds are there? I can feel my arousal building, so I grab the vibrator, turn it on and slide it in gently, adjusting until it hits the right spot.

“Jesus,” I whisper to no one, but this feels so good, I can’t keep in words or sounds. I bite my lip, at the same time that I squeeze around the toy. I squeeze as I rock my pelvis in circles as I let the pressure and the vibrations touch my most sensitive parts and reach all my pleasure points. I continue to motion, chasing the high. I know it won’t take long because I’ve been on the edge for far too long.

After licking my lips and letting out a guttural moan, I explode around the toy, squeezing it tightly with my inner muscles and turning my face on the bed, screaming a loud and borderline obscene yes . I let myself come down from the high, shaking my head at the fact that I just made myself come so fucking hard thinking about Manny’s face between my legs. I’m in so much trouble.

I clean up, put some makeup on, and play country music so I can get in the groove. I start swaying as I sing with Kelsea Ballerini, putting on jean shorts and a loose spaghetti-strap shirt. I decide to go braless because it’s too damn hot for anything else and grab my tennis shoes. Space buns pin up the front of my hair with the rest in messy waves down my back and when I look at myself in the mirror, I feel like a million bucks. I’m hot and I just orgasmed, nothing can sour my mood today. I just have to avoid talking about the kiss and everything will be fine.

I walk toward the door and when I pull it open, Manny’s standing there, coffee in hand with troubled eyes. He has dark jeans on and a button-down olive green shirt that makes his features pop. His skin practically glows in contrast with the color of the shirt and his soft curls are unruly as if he passed his hand through them.

“Well, hello, Manny. Personal space?” I ask, trying to go past him but he keeps staring at me, so hard I look down to make sure I did actually put clothes on and I’m not out here embarrassing myself. “Mmmm, hello?”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing down and he hands me the coffee. “Here, cafecito para ti? 1 .”

“Well thank you, kind sir. Did you get your milk in yours?” Manny has a perfect ratio to the way he likes to take his coffee. A shit ton of the darkest roast you can find and slowly poured cold milk into it. It’s so bizarre the way he takes it, so I’m always wondering if when he goes to order coffee, he explains exactly how he likes it.

“Nah, but a latte is the closest thing, you know?” he replies, grabbing my suitcase and walking toward the elevator.

“I can carry my own suitcase,” I insist, trying to reclaim a bit of independence and my bearings. I underestimated how much he would affect me after last night and what I just did in my room at the thought of him.

“Do I need to say it again?” Manny’s tone is firm yet playful, leaving the rest of the statement hanging like an unfinished thought. I don’t mind his chivalry—there’s something comforting about being around someone who genuinely cares about my well-being. But I also feel the weight of my thoughts—the fine line between allowing him to be a gentleman and fearing that I might never find someone who truly wants to be this way with me. Finding someone who will let me make the calls on how I want to spend my time and what I want to be doing together instead of what he wants to do all the time. Someone who knows I can do hard things but who still wants to make my life easier, even if just by bringing me afternoon coffee or dragging my suitcase down to the bus.

I’d been with plenty of men over the years, especially during those breaks between Cole. I’d focused so much on having fun and enjoying life that dating had taken a backseat. Casual encounters filled the gaps, but they never lasted. I sabotaged myself, always searching for something serious while convincing myself I was okay with something fleeting. It was a cycle that had gone on for a decade, with both of us drifting in and out of each other’s lives like the tide, never quite finding solid ground. But I want solid ground; I just thought Cole was going to give it to me someday.

Allie and Roe often remind me that I’m too good for him. I made excuses for his behavior in my mind, convincing myself I didn’t deserve better or that he was the best I would ever get. Maybe I’m not mature enough or I’m too volatile. But deep down, I know there are others out there searching for someone like me, someone to settle down with. Yet, here I am, feeling like just one of the “bros,” destined to remain alone forever.

As the elevator doors slide open, I take a deep breath, determined to shake off the heavy thoughts and enjoy the rest of this trip. I just have to remind myself that I am worth more than the cycles I keep repeating and that my someone is out there. Even if I haven’t found him yet. I don’t want to waste more moments without turning them into memories. In the meantime, I’ll keep pretending nothing happened with Manny and maybe the feeling that that person might be him will go away.

1 ? a little coffee for you