Page 3 of Bad At Love

First, TJ had started his own personal trainer business with two friends. Then his sister Maggie, seventeen years younger than him, had moved out of state for college. She’d flown the nest, all the way to sunny California from rainy Seattle, leaving an unnerving emptiness behind.

He’d barely made peace with it when a new milestone had barreled into him—turning forty.

It had taken Chaaru prodding him to discover he was ready to date. As cringeworthy as his initial efforts had been—all the swiping and sexting were beyond him—he’d continued because he wanted to share his life with someone.

Then Chaaru had introduced him to Pooja.

The best part was that Pooja, at thirty-five, had made it clear she didn’t want kids, was happy to split finances, and wanted a man who understood that she had a full life with hobbies and friends.

All more than welcome to him, given his own passion for mountain climbing and his need for solitude.

When they’d kissed at the end of the first date, it had been awkward, wet and a little like kissing his great aunt Sheela with her overly greased lips. Later, as they’d grown more comfortable with each other, their kisses had gotten sweet and hot. Nothing earth-shattering but a solid foundation he was happy to work with.

Today, her tongue sweeping through his mouth had even got his cock’s attention.

So if he liked the woman, and they had chemistry, and he could sort of imagine a vague, blurry future with her, why did he feel so much anticipatory restlessness instead of enjoying the moment?

“You haven’t touched dessert,” Pooja said, settling into the leather seat and cozying up to him. Close enough that DP could feel her thigh flushed pleasantly against his.

“Sorry,” he said, cheeks burning. “I have this habit of…”

“Wool-gathering, I know.” She scooped a bit of the chocolate mousse they’d ordered with her spoon and brought it to his mouth. “Honestly, it’s refreshing to be with a man who doesn’t love the sound of his own voice.”

He laughed, the chocolate melting on his tongue. God, it was decadent and rich, just like Chaaru loved it. Maybe he could drop off a piece for her on the way home and…

“You have a little here,” Pooja said, and swiped the tip of her tongue over his lip.

A thrill ran down his spine. He sat up straight and ran his knuckles over her jaw.

With a soft groan, she crowded closer and sought his lips. She tasted sweet and soft. Her breasts rubbed his arm and arousal hummed through him. Even as a parallel train of thoughts intruded.

Was it okay to invite her to his home for sex on a third date? Or was he supposed to wait for her to ask? Would she want to stay at his house tomorrow morning if things went well? Would he have to ask her to stay for breakfast and have more conversation?

Christ, how did people do this over and over?

No wonder Chaaru was so decidedly against dating. He could see this being a thousand times harder for a single mom in her forties.

“Going off somewhere in your head when I’m kissing you can be seen as a lack of interest,” Pooja said, pouting.

“No, I like kissing you and I want to do a lot more,” he said, nipping her lower lip in a not-so-gentle bite. “Which is why I’m trying to put the brakes on. I have no clue when it’s okay to show my interest. My brother TJ messed my head up with too many made-up rules.”

She laughed against his mouth and pressed a loud, smacking kiss to his chin. “You’re adorable.”

He grinned, some of his anxiety abating. “Glad you think so.”

“Ask me, DP.”

“Do you want to go home with me, Pooja?” he said, as she continued to run her mouth down his jaw. “So that we can fuck, eat ice cream after, and watch bad stand-up comedy in blissful silence?”

“You remembered what constitutes my best date,” she said, eyes widening. “Wow, a man who actually pays attention.”

“So, yes to all that?”

“Yes, please,” she said, giggling. “My apartment okay?”

Taking her home and having reasonably good sex—that he could do. DP nodded just as his cellphone rang. The name flashing on the screen had him checking his watch with a frown. Swiping it on, he said, “Is everything okay, Char?”

He shot to his feet as Chaaru related the most bizarre incident with her lover.

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