"This is stupid. Why am I even here?"

He muttered to himself, sitting on the edge of the hotel room bed, fidgeting with his right leg, glancing occasionally at his wristwatch on his left hand to confirm what he already knew: he'd arrived twenty minutes early for a date he'd arranged himself and was already regretting it.

Although it was far from a normal date, of course; it was a purely sexual encounter from a magazine catalog that had arrived in his mail by mistake, because he'd never subscribe to "Cute Babes by Mail," he wasn't that desperate... What a lie. He was desperate, but he wasn't subscribed to that magazine.

"I should go. Yes, I'll go."

He muttered, getting up quickly from the bed, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair where he'd left it, and heading for the door, freezing as soon as he opened it and saw you about to knock. Shit, now he couldn't back out. Although he had to admit that you, his date, were truly beautiful... Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.