“Now, Lucky, you’re drinkin’ on me,” said Riley. “And I know you like your beer. What can I get you? They have a great blond here called Delirium Tremens.”
Lucky made a slight choking sound but managed to maintain her composure.
“Just a soda water for me,” she said.
Riley raised his eyebrows.
“You sure?”
“Yup,” she managed to croak.
Lucky endured the first round of drinks by chain-smoking the other models’ cigarettes and chugging seltzer, all while monosyllabically answering questions from the intensely curious Riley, who seemed intent on learning all he could about her. She kept imagining the taste of cool beer slipping down her throat. It was torture. When Riley finally left the table to go to the bathroom, she saw her opportunity to make an escape. She shot up from her seat.
“I’m just—” she mumbled. “I’ll…be back.”
She turned toward the exit and made it halfway there before she changed her mind and headed inside instead. The bar was dark and warm, untouched by the dappled sunlight outside. The scent hit her immediately. She could smell the beer in a way she’d never been able to when drinking it. It was so sweet and familiar. It was bread crusts and pine needles and caramel. It was earth and yeast and stone fruit. It was relief. The bartender sidled over to her, waiting for her order. She could do it. No one would have to know. She opened her mouth to order.
“Which way is the bathroom?” she asked.
The bartender gestured toward the back, and Lucky forced herself past the bar to where he pointed. There were two individual restrooms, each with a smoked-glass window in the door. Lucky waited outside them, vibrating with pent-up longing. A tall, attractive woman exited from one of them and did a double take at Lucky before leaving. Lucky was used to this. Women often checked her out more blatantly than men did, not out of sexual curiosity, or not always, but as a kind of competitive research. It used to bother her, but since making the decision to quit modeling, she felt a novel remove from her physical self. Let her look. She wasn’t profiting off her body anymore. Lucky waited without entering the vacated bathroom until Riley emerged from the other one. His face lit up at the sight of her.
“Hey, you,” he said.
He held the door open to let her pass, but she grabbed the front of his jersey and pushed him back into the bathroom. When he opened his mouth in surprise, she pushed her own to his. Then she was kissing him, hot, bruising kisses, fierce and ravenous, snaking her tongue into his mouth, bumping her teeth against his. She grabbed handfuls of his basketball jersey and wrung it between her fists. She wrapped her arms around him, crushing him to her. She felt the crunch of her ribs against his chest. They crashed back against the sink, and he lifted her up, pressing her tight to him as she coiled her legs around his waist. Her face was above his now and if she could, she would have unhinged her jaw and swallowed him whole like a snake with a smooth, round egg. She threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling off the stupid headband and flicking it to the floor. He stared up at her in wonder as she smoothed floppy golden strands of his hair away from his face with her palms. She pressed her lips to his breathlessly, messily, until his legs buckled beneath him, and she tumbled to her feet out of his arms. He reeled away from her and put a hand on the window ledge, catching his breath.
“Wow.” He exhaled. “I wasn’t expecting…Wow.”
“Don’t talk,” said Lucky.
She launched toward him again, pushing her hand into the waistband of his basketball shorts. She closed her eyes and felt for him.
“Hey,” he said softly, attempting to tug her hand away. “Hey, wait.”
She opened her eyes.
“What is it?” she asked.
It could have been playful, but the question was tense with impatience.
“I just…” He swallowed and pulled her hand free of him. “My friends are outside—”
“We’ll be quick,” Lucky said and tried to return her hand.
“And I haven’t showered—”
He attempted to take a step back and almost toppled into the toilet bowl. Lucky pressed forward.
“I don’t care.”
“And…God, Lucky.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her still in front of him. “I like you. I think you’re cool, you know? I’d like to take you out sometime.”
Lucky stared blankly at him.
“You like me?”
He let go of her and ran a hand through his hair.
“Well…yeah.”
Lucky blinked.
“But you don’t know anything about me.”
He threw his hands up.
“Well, I’ve been trying, Lucky, but you’re kind of a hard book to crack. Maybe if you go on a date with me, I could find out more.”
Lucky narrowed her eyes at him.
“A date? What kind of date?”
“I don’t know, I hadn’t planned it yet. We can do anything. What do you like to do?”
“I like to take drugs,” said Lucky. “And drink until I black out.”
Riley gave a nervous laugh tinged with something else, fear or fascination, Lucky couldn’t tell.
“But…I’m open to other suggestions,” she added.
