Only female in the room. . .writing prompt response

Last week's writing prompt catch up: The only female in the room. . .

The only female in the room, Jane felt like one of the boys, with the exception that she never over-thought or over-complicated anything. Over-analysis, in her opinion, was a guy thing. Seriously, things in technology were black or white, right or wrong, worked or not. Was it a lack of estrogen that made men think too much?

A chuckle escaped her lips and she attempted to cover it up with a cough. Sitting across from her, Chris lifted a wild, single hairy eyebrow. Did his wife pluck it for him? She wondered that because every so often, he would have two, but today he was back to a solitary caterpillar hovering above his eyes. Jane looked away before she started to laugh again.

She sat forward, rested her elbow on the table, her forehead in her hand and stared down at the fake wood. What the heck was wrong with her? She could not concentrate. Ever since her best friend dragged her to that bar and she had been nutty enough to leave with a guy she just met, she could not focus. Her only thoughts have been about the sexy guy who she had thought she was going to have sex with then ran out on.

What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been, she decided, and slapped her forehead. Ouch! Someone kicked her in the ankle. Jane glared over her shoulder at Ben who gave her a quizzical look. In return, she scrunched her nose up at him hoping he would leave her alone.

Even the other day her brain had been so scrambled by the events of the weekend that she had accidentally written a For Sex Loop in her code instead of a Fore Next Loop. Talk about embarrassing when of course, she hadn’t been the one to find the error, but instead her boss had when he did a review of her code. Her cheeks started to heat just thinking about that mistake.

And now, here she sat, in an all-hands meeting, the only female in the room, and little did the guys know that they were not the only ones thinking about doing the deed every sixty seconds. Hell, she had been thinking about it every fifteen seconds since leaving the motel room in a very unsatisfied state.

“Oh,” she groaned.

Damn! Had she said that aloud? Jane glanced up. All eyes were on her. Great! Just flippin’ fantastic! If she had stayed and gotten laid would she be in this mess? No! But, she blew a wayward strand of hair from her face and slumped back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, but, how could she even think about getting it on with a guy who wore lace panties? Panties that were sexier than any she owned.