A lot.
Or he’s always jogging along some beach. Like now.
“Hey,” he calls to me when he draws nearer and we make eye contact. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic.”
“It sucks,” I agree, breathing deep when he stops directly in front of me. He smells good. Like citrus and wood. Sounds a little odd, but it works for him. “You ready?”
“I should stretch first.” He starts doing exactly that, the hem of his T-shirt rising when he lifts his arms above his head. My gaze drops to that exposed sliver of skin. His flat stomach. His bellybutton, which is a perfect innie and has a line of dark hair arrowing straight down beneath the waistband of his shorts.
I tear my gaze away, telling myself it’s just Theo. I shouldn’t look at him like that.
But…
Maybe I should, considering I’m going to have to act like he’s my boyfriend for a short period of time. Why I’m doing this for him, I’m not really sure, but since we’ve started talking and hanging out, he has always been there for me. He’s a good guy. Nice. Dependable. Super smart. Responsible, with a good head on his shoulders. He also has a successful career. He would make someone a great boyfriend.
So why don’t I want to snag him up?
I’ve been on a recent anti-man tear, so there’s that. Theo feels like my partner in crime. He doesn’t want to date anyone either. He treats me like a friend, not a potential fuck buddy. It’s amazing how many men who I thought were my friends were actually just guys hoping I’d be their fuck buddy.
Frustrating.
Theo is the only man who actually sees me, who listens to what I say, and respects my wishes, always. I do the same for him. We’re not interested in a romantic relationship. Specifically not with each other or with…anyone.
We’re over it. Over love.
Or so I thought.
But it’s been a few months. He’s well over his ex, or so he claims. I’m starting to feel a little…antsy.
Okay, let’s be real. I’m feeling horny.
I’m starting to wonder if I should climb back onto that saddle, and use Theo as my temporary horse.
Well. That conjures up all sorts of images.
“You okay?” Theo asks, his deep voice pulling me from my suddenly naughty thoughts.
I lift my gaze to his, shrugging one shoulder. No way can I tell him I just had the vivid mental image of climbing on top of him and riding him like the cowgirl I’ve secretly always wanted to be. “I’m great.” I smile.
He tilts his head. “I think you’re full of shit, but it’s cool. I’ll let it go.”
This is another reason I like Theo so much. He calls me on my bullshit, but he doesn’t expect me to explain myself either. I can be a little…extra sometimes. I know this. It’s my worst trait. Theo allows me to act as extra as I want. Most of the time, he tells me I’m being completely ridiculous, but he doesn’t make a big deal about it.
He just lets me be.
“Are you ready to start dating again?” I ask him out of the blue.
His head whips in my direction fast, his gaze meeting mine. “Are you?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug again. “I was just thinking about how I—don’t hate men anymore.”
Theo laughs, the pleasant sound sending shivers rippling across my skin. “Glad to hear it.”
My voice is solemn. “I think you helped me with that.”
“Me?” He rests his hand on his broad chest. “I’m honored. Come on, let’s run.”
He’s not taking me seriously, I think as we start jogging across the soft sand. He probably thinks I’m being my usual ridiculous self, and he probably doesn’t even believe me. If I were to tell him I’m having sexual fantasies about him? He’d probably laugh and tell me to buy a new vibrator.
I did. A few months ago. It doesn’t cut it anymore. I want to feel a man’s fingers touching me, not my own. I need that skin-on-skin sensation. I want a man to hold me close and run his fingers through my hair while I listen to his heart thump against my ear.
Oh my God, I think I want a fuck buddy.
I think I might want my fuck buddy to be…
Theo.
“Hurry up!” Theo yells, and I pick up speed, a grunt leaving me as I trudge through the sand.
Running on this beach is a complete bitch because of the sand. It’s thick and our feet sink deeper the farther we go. I angle my body toward the water’s edge, already needing the compacted sand that’s down there. Screw this.
“Wimp,” Theo says easily when he rejoins me to run by my side. “You usually go a lot longer in the deeper sand.”
How can he talk so casually while I feel like I’m about to collapse? I’m totally winded. “I can’t have conversation with you and run at the same time.”
It took me twice as long as normal to say that. This is probably why he encouraged me to run right in the middle of my declaration. So we wouldn’t be stuck in awkward conversation about dating or not. Which tells me he’s not ready to get back out on the scene. And why not? He’s a very attractive man. Smart and successful with a great career. Let’s be real for a moment.
He is a fucking catch.
“Let’s go to a bar tonight,” I call to him as he runs ahead of me. “I want to help you pick up women.”
Theo turns so he’s running backwards, his expression nothing short of incredulous. “What the hell, Kels? I thought you wanted people to think we’re a couple. Now you want to set me up in dark bars with total strangers? You’re not making any sense.”
I roll my eyes and increase my pace so I can keep up with him, hating that he’s right. I’m totally not making sense. “You need to start dating again, Theo. Maybe we’re spending too much time together.”
“And maybe you’re sending me mixed messages,” he says. “You’re being kind of weird, you know.”
We run for a while, both of us silent. My mind is a whirl of information, all of it confusing. Theo’s right. I did just suggest we needed to make it seem real between us. That’s why he’s taking me to his parents’ house this weekend. So he can introduce me as his new girlfriend.
But he needs an actual girlfriend once this charade is over. Guess what? I need an actual boyfriend, too. I’m tired of being alone. I’m not what I would call lonely, thanks to my friends, including Theo. But I am lonely for romantic company. The kind that only a man could give to me. Plus, I really want to find a man who’ll give me multiple orgasms at once.
That last one might be a myth, and I haven’t come across one yet, but I’m not giving up on finding him. He’s out there, and I look forward to the day he’ll make me come three times in a row.
By the time we’re back where we started, not too far from the parking lot at the end of Ocean Drive, I’m exhausted. My lungs burn. My calves ache. It’s foggy and cold out here, yet I’m sweating. But damn it, I feel good too.
“Let’s go to a bar tonight,” I tell him again once I’ve rediscovered my voice.
Theo frowns. He’s attractive even when he looks confused. It’s almost as if he’s become…more attractive lately. The dark hair and dark eyes. The olive skin. The muscles. Dude’s got muscles for days. Who knew? “You mentioned that already. Why do you want to go to a bar?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “So I can practice being your girlfriend?”
The words fall from my lips like I have no control over them. He appears startled. I am startled. What am I trying to do here? I think about missing romantic contact with a man and now I’m basically asking Theo out on a date.
“If you want to do that, shouldn’t I probably wine and dine you first?” He raises his brows. “I’m talking dinner,” he continues at my confused look.
“Oh. Right.” I laugh nervously, then clamp my lips shut. I sound like an idiot. “You want to go to dinner? Tonight?”
He rests his hands on his hips, his chest lifting with every accelerated breath he inhales. That run winded him too. “I’m tired of the bar scene. Let’s have
dinner instead. You like dinner, right?”
“I love dinner.” Theo and I meet for lunch at least once a week. We see each other at various afternoon work-related mixers. A couple of cocktail parties, we’ve bumped into each other and usually spend the entirety of the event together. We had brunch once, but that was a rare moment.
We never, ever have dinner together. And I know why. Theo is always working through the dinner hour. He usually eats late—if he eats dinner at all. And when he does eat, it’s usually a) at his desk, b) in his car as he drives home aka fast food, or c) some sort of frozen crap he heated up real quick in his microwave at nine-forty-five at night. I’ve told him time and again that it’s not good for him to eat like that, but he always blows me off.
He’s a man completely obsessed with his job. Which I suppose is a great trait for making money, but I worry that he neglects his health. And that’s not good.
“Then let’s go to dinner tonight,” he says.
“Theo.” I raise my brows. “Are you asking me on a date?”
I’m actually giddy at the prosect. And I never get giddy over dates. Or dinners with male friends. Not that I go out to dinner with male friends. I don’t really have any.
Except for Theo.
“A date between friends,” he says, his words deflating my giddy mood like a pinprick to a balloon. “And you’re the one who asked first. So technically, you asked me out on this dinner date.”
Fair enough. “Let’s call it a mutual agreement.”
“Okay.” He scratches the back of his neck, his biceps bulging with the movement. My mouth goes dry, and it’s not because I’m dying of thirst. “It’s Friday, so I don’t plan on working too late.”
With Theo, that statement means nothing. He could work till ten. He could work till midnight. He doesn’t know his limits. “It’s Friday,” I repeat. “Meaning everywhere we might want to go will be busy, especially if you work late.”
“Then we’ll have drinks first, just like you wanted.” His smile turns sly. “Want to go to that French place Paul took you to when we went on our double blind date?”
“Absolutely not,” I say firmly, not wanting any memories of his jerk best friend tainting the evening. “Let’s pick somewhere different. Maybe here in Carmel?”
“Sure,” he says easily. “You pick the place and text me what time you want to meet.”
“Sounds good.”
He glances at his Rolex. “Shit, I gotta go, or I’m going to be late. Text me.”
He starts to leave and I watch him go, calling out his name.
“What?” He turns so he’s walking backwards again. How does he do that? I’d stumble over something and hurt myself, I know it. I’m not the most coordinated person in the world.
“Promise me you won’t forget about our date tonight,” I say.
Theo frowns. “How could I ever forget you?”
His words touch my heart. I know for a fact he forgot about a couple of dates with his ex, thanks to him being completely consumed with work and losing track of time. It made Jessica angry.
So angry, she started cheating on Theo with his cousin. Not that I know the reason why she chose Theo’s cousin, but hey. It’s possible.
My expression turns serious. I can literally feel it make the switch. “Promise me.”
His laughter dies. “I promise, Kels.”
My gaze stays on him as he climbs into his sleek black BMW. He waves as he pulls out of the lot, and I watch as his car climbs up the hilly road until I can no longer see it. A sigh leaves me as I make my way toward my car. Emotions swirl within me, every one of them confusing. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know how I feel.
I guess I just need to go with it, and see where things take me.
Six
Theo
I’m at my desk answering yet another email from last week when I hear my phone buzz, indicating a text message. I check to see who it’s from.
Kelsey.
Let’s go to Porta Bella. We can sit outside. I made reservations. 7:30. Don’t forget!
Why is she so worried I might forget her?
Oh. I told her about those times I forgot about dates with Jessica. Work can take over my life if I don’t watch it, and back then, I was so secure in my relationship with my fiancée, I figured I could do whatever the hell I wanted and she’d forgive me. Or she wouldn’t care.
I was wrong. She cared. A lot. She ended up getting pissed. I’d neglected her for a while, she told me later. I didn’t fulfill her needs.
My cousin did instead. Really nice, how he swooped in and stole her from me. At least she kept it in the family?
My phone buzzes again with another text from Kels.
???
Me: I won’t be late. See you at 7:30.
She sends me back a row of kissy face emojis, and I wonder at them. Think back on her mood earlier when we met at the beach. She’s kind of all over the place. Very contradictory. Maybe putting misplaced feelings on me?
What are those misplaced feelings exactly? Not exactly sure.
There’s a knock on my door and then it pops open, my assistant Lyssa appearing. “Theo, there’s someone here to see you.”
I frown, trying to come up with an appointment I might’ve missed. “Who?”
“He says he’s your cousin.” She makes a little face. “Craig?”
Fucking great.
An irritated sigh escapes me and I run a hand through my hair, glaring at the mess that is my desk. “Tell him I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Will do.” She quietly shuts the door while I mutter a few choice words under my breath.
Craig is the last person I want to deal with. The man who stole my fiancée. The man who fucked her behind my back for months while I was completely oblivious. He made me look like a chump. Like a complete dumbass. My own flesh and blood backstabbing me in the worst possible way.
Showing up at my workplace unannounced is so typical. The guy is a prick. We’re the same age—we’ve always been competitive with each other. While in high school he was the jock and I was the nerd, I’m the one who’s now got a successful job and am making lots of money while he’s a beer delivery guy.
And there’s nothing wrong with delivering beer. He makes decent money. He’s worked there since he was twenty, and the delivery positions are coveted. He seems perfectly content with his career. But I know it burns his ass I make twice as much as he does—maybe more. Guess he got me back, though, by stealing Jessica right from under my nose.
The asshole.
Grabbing my phone, I open up the camera and quickly check myself out, baring my teeth to make sure I don’t have anything in them. I’m wearing a suit, as per usual, though I shed the jacket a while ago. Also per usual. I decide to shrug the jacket back on and straighten my tie. Shove my phone into my front pocket of my pants and stand up straight, reminding myself he came to my workplace.
And I can kick his ass out if I need to.
I take a deep breath and exit my office to find Craig sitting in the waiting area near Lyssa’s desk. He’s slumped in the seat in his delivery uniform, scowling as he types furiously on his phone. I clear my throat to announce my arrival and his head jerks up, his scowl switching to a smile just like that.
“Cuz! It’s so good to see you!” He hops to his feet and comes for me, smothering me in a hug. My body stiff, I reach around him and awkwardly pat his back, feeling like a robot.
Who the hell does he think he is? Coming in here like no big deal. We haven’t talked in a year. Since before everything happened.
I pull away from him as quickly as possible, the smile on my face strained. “What’s going on?” I try to keep my voice light. Casual. Like seeing him doesn’t bother me.
But holy shit, does it bother me. Craig and I never resolved our issues. There was never any major confrontation between us. I didn’t call him out on how he—they—deceived me, and he never asked for my forgiveness.
Him show
ing up at my office unannounced, acting as if we’re cool with each other, is like his cheating with Jessica never happened.
“Not much. Been busy. Work’s keeping me going. And then there’s the wedding.” His eyes flicker with some unknown emotion, but otherwise he acts like it’s nothing. “How about you?”
“I’m good. Extremely busy.” Heavy emphasis on extremely. “What can I do for you, Craig?”
“We haven’t seen each other in a while and this is how you treat me?” Craig smiles, like it’s all just one big joke.
I cross my arms, watching him, a single brow raising. This is some straight-up bullshit, if you ask me.
“Okay.” Craig expels an exasperated breath. I’m tempted to punch him in his face, but I restrain myself. “I have, ah, a question for you.”
“What is it?” I glance over my shoulder to see Lyssa watching us with obvious curiosity, her gaze dropping to her computer screen when I catch her. “Let’s have this conversation in my office,” I tell Craig.
He follows me inside and I shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as Craig goes to the window that overlooks the Monterey Bay. “Pretty nice view you got here,” he says.
“I like it.” Most of the time, I don’t even notice it.
Craig turns to face me as I make my way to my desk “You’ve really made yourself into something, haven’t you?”
I shrug, feigning modesty. I’d love to rub it in his face that I’m pretty fucking successful, but there’s something to be said for acting like it’s no big deal too. “I do all right,” I tell him.
“Yeah.” Craig glances around once more, then down at himself, as if he just realized he’s in his vaguely dirty uniform. Not that I’m judging him. “Jessica and I were glad to see you’re coming to the wedding.”
I nod. Don’t say a word. The only reason I’m going is because my family is forcing me to. Not that I’m going to tell Craig that.
The silence stretches, and I wish he’d just get to the point.
“And that you’re bringing a date.” Craig smiles, his gaze hopeful. “You met someone, huh?”
Wedding Date (Dating Series Book 6) Page 4
