"Seduction always means one party is less willing than the other. I want to be on even footing with you."
She reached for my hand on the bedspread, but I pulled it away. "Well, let me know when you catch up."
I stood up and tucked my shirt back into my pants. She sprang up from the end of the bed and marched over to the mirror to straighten her clothes. Her lips were pursed and her cheeks were bright, so I reached for the door.
"That's it, huh? That's all I get?" she asked.
"You stopped me, remember?"
"I suppose you're right, I don't deserve anything more. Just one sloppy seduction attempt, and when it doesn't work, I get dropped for an easier target," she said.
I stopped with my fingers flexed tight around the door handle. "What do you want, Kya?"
"Right, of course, it's totally unreasonable of me to want to be more than a challenge to you," she said. "If I want to mean more to someone than a locker room story, then no one's interested."
"It's not like that," I told her. My fingers slipped off the door handle. There was a bright emerald glint to her eyes I had never seen before, and it hurt me.
Kya refused to cry. "I know there are bets made behind my back. I know why men like you are nice to me."
"Men like me?"
"Athletes, stars, clients. Men who find it fun to flirt with me, try to take on the challenged in hopes of rubbing it in their buddies' faces." Kya lunged past me and whipped open the door.
"Who does that to you? Other clients?" I asked. My fingers curled into a fist.
"Please, as if you weren't just doing the exact same thing." She shoved me out the door and slammed it in my face.
She was stronger than she looked. And, there was no way she was going to open the door again. I leaned my forehead against it. There were a million little things I could say, but she would not believe any of them. I had tried to seduce her and I had failed. Everything Kya said about men like me was correct.
I shut my eyes and my childhood daydream flashed into my mind. I was playing in my big backyard with my children while my wife watched from the patio. It was dusk and the lights of our house illuminated the yard. We could play until the stars came out and there was nothing to worry about.
Now, the only thing I worried about was how when my imaginary wife looked at me, it was Kya's green eyes that I saw.
I smacked the thought away, hitting the door harder than I intended. It did not matter. I could not have Kya. I could not have anyone yet. If I could not provide for my family 100 times over and never have to worry, then I could not have one at all. Kya would understand, but I would never tell her. Instead, I would lose her and keep on going alone.
I punched the elevator button and paced until the doors opened on the main casino. I stepped out only to narrowly miss an amateur kick to my chin.
"Did you get it? That's going to be an awesome picture," the young man said. His friends all agreed then backed up.
I bristled and stepped up behind him. "You almost kicked me in the face for a candid shot?"
"Yeah, man, it’s no big thing. I'm a fan," he said.
"No big thing? Here, how about I almost kick you in the face and then we'll see how you feel," I said.
The young man scowled. "What a buzzkill. Can't you just be cool?"
"Cool? I'm not the one assaulting people just for a funny picture." I stepped close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath.
"Back off, man."
"Or what?"
The kid had no choice but to try and shove me. I thought of how Kya was half his weight, but twice as effective. It was like kerosene on the spark. I bumped my chest against his hands and he bounced back. While the young man was off balance, I stepped forward and swept a leg under to trip him. He fell, a limp swing at my face missing by six inches. I answered with a punch that slammed the carpet next to his head hard enough the repercussion made his skull bounce.
The young man started yelling and flailing his arms more like an overgrown toddler than a man defending himself. I twisted his arms together and pressed them to his chest. With an openhanded knock across the top of his head, I punctuated my point.
"Don't mess with things you can't handle."