That’s the exact question I’m asking myself. Right now I’m having a hard time remembering why I told him to stop. Or why I’m even going on this date later. Fuck. I shake my head. As Callie gets over what she just saw, I pull into the parking garage at Alicia’s condo expecting her car to be next to Callie’s where we left it last night. It’s not, a sign Alicia’s already been home and back out again. Party girl should’ve been a rock star. She could’ve at least texted me to let me know she’s alive.
Callie slides out of my car and I roll down the window, waiting for her to get in her Jeep before pulling away.
“Good luck finding your phone!”
“Thanks for the ride.” She lifts her hand in a wave. “Good luck with the BDC.”
I frown, not understanding, “What?”
“Big Dick Cam.” She laughs heartily for the first time all day. “You’ve got your hands full, quite literally, with that one.”
“Oh my God!” I shake my head, but my lips spread with a grin. “Pretend I never told you. Please!”
“Impossible. You saw the size of it!” She laughs again and shuts her door, the engine of her vehicle roaring to life behind me as I steer my car back home. I need to change. Hell, another shower wouldn’t hurt. Another text alert sounds and my body heats at the thought of what lies waiting in my inbox. No. I can’t think about what Cam’s packing. I have a date with Preston. I press my foot on the gas, anxious to get home. It chimes again, and my head fills with naughty images. Shit, the least I can do is mute my notifications. No more Cam. He’s off the menu. Tonight is Preston.Ping. My sex clenches. Fuck, at this point I need a cold shower just to make it through this damn date.
Chapter Five
Preston is nice. He’s pleasant. He wears the hell out of his dress shirt, and he smells good too. Still. I can’t stop thinking about Cam. Every little thing Preston does or says dims in comparison to Cam, which is completely unfair. They aren’t in a battle for my attention. There’s no competition. Preston is the man here with me, datingme, and patient as hell when I asked to take things slow. Cam is some guy I hooked up with. One hot night. That’s it.
Preston clears his throat, scooting closer in our booth after he hands our server his card. He paid for dinner, even when I offered to split it, and an extra dose of shame washes over me for thinking of someone else.
“Thank you.” I edge away from his body, needing a little space. “Everything was delicious.” I pick up my water and take a sip before meeting his gaze.
“Wanna come back to my place for a drink? Or we could watch a movie?” His gaze is hopeful.
“Uh.” It’s the time of judgment. My time to come clean. I either tell Preston what I did last night, or I break things off. There’s no way to have both. Not for me.
He reaches for my hand, stilling it from where I cling to my water glass. His fingers wrap around mine, and his gaze heats as he brings them to his lips. He presses a chaste kiss to the back of my hand and I can tell he’s holding back. Like he wants to devour my lips, or drag me back to his apartment. If I could let myself remember why I wanted normal with Preston, I might actually enjoy that. But it’s never gonna happen.
I don’t want Preston. Not because he’s a bad guy, or even that we work together, though that probably should be reason enough. No, it has everything to do with the man who sent me immature and inappropriate texts all day. The one who rocked my world last night. Fuck. Am I really that woman? The one who passes on a perfectly good man for another who’s probably a total player. Who is the total opposite of safe. Who I clearly can’t stop thinking about. “I’m sorry.”
“Maybe another night?” I hear the optimism in his voice. I see it in his unguarded gaze.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Because we work together? Because I already checked the HR manual, and it won’t be a problem. We’re in different departments, and I’m not your supervisor.”
I did the same. I don’t know why I thought I could date like a normal person. I’m not cut out for this. Even this conversation gives me hives. I hate hurting him, but the truth does that sometimes. “That’s not it.”
“There’s someone else?”
Yes.No.I’m notwithCam, and he’s not the only reason I’m ending things tonight. But I won’t deny being with Cam opened my eyes to how foolish I’ve been to think this thing with Preston could be more. That I could date him and not hurt anyone, because my heart won’t ever be fully invested. He doesn’t deserve that from a partner. I deserve more than a relationship void of mind-blowing sexual chemistry, too. “I’m sorry, Preston. It’s not you, it’s—”
“It’s fine. You don’t need to explain.” He holds up a hand, his smile tight and lacking his usual easy-going manner. “I’m glad you told me now, because I don’t want it to be weird at work. For either of us.”
There’s no malice or anger in his words, and for that I exhale in relief. Not that we really work together. I rarely see him but for the occasional run-in at the shared lunchroom since he’s in accounting. We wouldn’t have even started talking if it weren’t for the company-wide training for new hires a few months ago.
“Thank you. For not making it weird. And for these last few dates. You’re a good guy.” And he is a good guy. Respectful. Intelligent. Kind. Handsome, too.Safe.My heart never once raced when he called, or even when he pressed his lips to mine for a sweet kiss goodnight. Until last night with Cam, I thought I was the one in control. Now that I know how it could be . . . I can’t pretend to want safe. Maybe that makes me a complete idiot. It probably does. But one thing is perfectly clear: I should’ve stuck to the plan. No relationships. No commitments. No messy feelings, safe or otherwise.
“I can drive you home.” It’s considerate of him to offer.
“No, thanks, I’ll just grab an Uber.” I slide out of the booth and he follows. I take a step toward the restrooms while he heads toward the door. I wave good-bye, and dig my phone from my bag.
Preston offers another smile, but I sense it’s more forced than natural.He liked me. More than I felt for him, and for that I feel another sliver of guilt. I wish I could’ve returned his feelings. He’s the kind of man who’s looking for a true partnership. He doesn’t want kids. Doesn’t even believe in marriage. He’s the perfect candidate for someone like me. I all but pictured us spending weekends together, alternating apartments, going out for brunch and discussing politics. The fact my daydream never included hot, sweaty, orgasmic fucking should have been a warning sign. I wanted to use him for a companion, one I could keep at a distance.
As I wait for my Uber I thumb through my phone, bored and a little irritated at myself. My insecurities. My limitations. My lack of vulnerability. Sometimes it feels as if I’ve come so far that the countless hours of self-reflection and counseling have been worth it. And others, like tonight, prove I’m nowhere near healed in the way I want to be. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’ll never be capable of more. Maybe I should stop trying so hard and accept myself.
What is it I really want?
