The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3) by T.L. Swan



“So?” Daniel looks between the two of us. “What’s the story with you two, are you single or dating?”

“Well.” Rebecca smiles. “I have a boyfriend, Brett. And Kathryn here is trying to get an honorary membership to the nunnery.”

I laugh. “That’s not true. I’m just very picky.”

Daniel gives me a cute wink. “Nothing wrong with that. I’m quite picky myself actually.”

“And what’s your story?” Rebecca asks.

“Well . . .” Daniel pauses as if choosing the right words. “I am . . .” He pauses again.

“Gay?” I ask.

Daniel laughs. “I like women too much to title myself completely gay.”

“So . . .” Rebecca screws up her face as she tries to make sense of that statement.

“You’re bisexual?”

Daniel twists his lips as if thinking. “I wouldn’t say I’m bisexual. My natural attraction is toward women. But lately . . .” His voice trails off.

“What?” I ask, fascinated.

“A few years back I was partying with a few guys that I didn’t know that well in Ibiza. One of them was gay.”

“How many were you away with?” I ask.

“There were four of us in total.”

“So, three of you were straight?”

Daniel nods. “Maybe it was the sun, maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the cocaine, I don’t know, but something happened and we got a little randy, spent the weekend in bed, and now I have a bit of a fetish for men on the side.”

Rebecca smiles dreamily over at Daniel, as if this is the best story that she’s ever heard. And I can almost hear the cogs in her brain clicking, assessing how liberated he must be.

I sip my drink, equally fascinated with his story. “How does it feel to be sexual with somebody that isn’t your natural inclination?”

“Good. Perhaps a little kinky.” Daniel shrugs. “I think that’s what it is for me, I feel like I’m doing something naughty, something that I shouldn’t be doing but at the same time feels so natural. And I don’t know how long I’ll keep doing it, maybe not forever, maybe not much more at all. But whenever I do it, I don’t regret it. It doesn’t feel wrong, if that’s what you mean.”

“How many . . .” Rebecca’s voice trails off as she stops herself.

“You can ask me anything,” Daniel prompts her.

“How many men have you been with?”

Daniel narrows his eyes as he thinks. “Hmm, not many, I would say more than ten but less than twenty.”

“Jeez.” My eyebrows raise by themselves.

“What’s that look for?” Daniel smiles.

“Well, you said that you haven’t slept with many men. If that’s a low number for you what’s a high number? I mean . . . what are your numbers for women?”

Daniel laughs. “Too many to count, I’m afraid. I meet some beautiful people in my industry, sometimes the temptation is just too great.”

Disappointment fills me and I screw up my napkin and throw it onto the table in disgust. “I wish I was more like you,” I sigh.

“Meaning?”

“You know, all liberated and cool and”—I pause as I think of the right terminology—“I guess, free.”

Daniel’s face falls. “You don’t feel free?”

Oh God, why did I say that? Now I sound like a freaking drama queen. “What I meant is, I guess I would like to be in your shoes, you know, sleeping with whoever I wanted to for fun.”

“You don’t have sex for fun?” Daniel frowns.

This is all coming out wrong. “I mean, I have in the past. I guess I just got out of the swing of it as I got older.”

“How old are you?” he asks.

“Twenty-seven. I had a few boyfriends in high school and college, and then after that I had a long-term boyfriend. We broke up a year after my parents died.”

“Your parents died?”

I sip my drink; how did we get onto this subject?

Why did I say that?

“They were involved in a head-on collision car crash,” Rebecca replies; she knows how much I hate saying that out loud.

Daniel’s eyes come to me in a question.

“My mother died at the scene, my father died on the way to hospital. The driver that hit them had a heart attack and veered onto the wrong side of the road.” I feel the heaviness come over me as my chest constricts, and I glance up into the kind eyes of Rebecca, who gives me a soft smile and takes my hand across the table. I had just moved in with Rebecca at college when my parents died. She’s been my rock and a wonderful friend and has been there for me on many lonely sad nights.