Besides, Mia wasn’t a girl a guy had a fling with, and he was a guy who only did flings.
Seeing Mia again as a mate, though? Someone who’d take him out of his head for a while, with the added bonus that he enjoyed her? That he could look forward to. All he had to do was stop thinking about how unconsciously sexy she was.
Or how much he wanted to peel off her simple black shirt and jeans so he could get his hands on the curves he knew lay beneath.
Curves he bloody well had to stop thinking about. Shaking himself, he handed her card back. ‘I’ll see you soon, yes? For non-date number three?’
She nodded, her fingers touching his as she reached for it. Immediately he felt a fizz across his skin. Her gaze jumped to his and he knew she’d felt it too, those blue eyes blazing with heat, and with confusion. But then she quickly ducked her head and spent the next minute meticulously placing the card back in her purse.
When she finally looked back at him, her feelings were back under control. ‘I’ll keep an eye on your window for my next adventure.’ Her lips twitched. ‘That is unless you’ve run out of Manchester hot spots.’
He laughed, relieved. ‘There’s ninety-eight more of them. You’re in this for the long haul, Mia. Better get used to the idea.’
Maybe by then she’d get so used to it, to him, she’d drop her guard and let him in, he thought as she walked away.
And while he was on the elusive maybes, maybe by then he’d have turned the bar round, and no longer be waking up in a cold sweat, wondering if he really was capable of any of this. The bar or the woman.
The following day, Luke met Tanya at a café near her flat. Usually when he took her out he went to her place first to pick her up, but he didn’t want to give the wrong impression.
Today there’d be no hasty sex in the hallway. No forgetting the date entirely and spending it in her bedroom instead.
‘Well, this is a first.’ Tanya gave him a breezy smile as she slid onto the chair opposite him. ‘I don’t usually get the joy of your company in the morning.’
He signalled for another cup of coffee, allowing her words to sink in. Sure, he hadn’t met her for coffee before, but surely… ‘I’ve never stayed over?’
Slowly she shook her head. ‘I asked a few times, but you said something about having to get back to feed a rabbit.’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘I assumed it was an excuse.’
‘It wasn’t.’ Yet it clearly had been, because it wasn’t like Pickles would have starved if she’d missed a morning feed, though she might have sniffed out a wire or two to gnaw through instead. ‘I do have a rabbit.’
‘Wow.’
‘Long story.’ And that was one thing he’d never done with any of the women he’d dated. Delved into the long stories. It wasn’t what they wanted from him. He was the bartender they enjoyed flirting with, the guy with the muscles they wanted to hook up with. And it suited him just fine.
Well it had, until Mia had come into his life. Now he wanted to talk, to do things that didn’t involve getting horizontal on a bed. Scratch that, things that didn’t only involve getting her on a bed.
The waitress settled the mug in front of Tanya and he stared guiltily back at the woman who should be his focus this morning.
‘I’m sorry I never stayed over,’ he told her quietly. ‘You deserved more from me.’
She shook her head. ‘I didn’t expect any different. I know what we’re about.’
It was true, yet he couldn’t help but feel a prick of unease. Of guilt. He hadn’t always been this man, the one who had sex with a woman but didn’t stay over. Sometimes didn’t even take her out on a date, first.
‘Maybe I should have put that in the past tense.’ She smiled sadly at him. ‘You’ve got that look on your face. Like you’re about to tell me something you don’t think I want to hear.’
He winced. ‘Shit, I’m never playing poker with you.’ Taking a swig of his coffee, he looked her in the eye. ‘I’ve loved our times together, but I don’t think we should keep seeing each other. Not now.’
She nodded, her expression giving nothing away. ‘Because?’
Yeah, great question. He was still a free agent. Mia didn’t want to date him, so why was he about to give up sex whenever he wanted it? Because it no longer feels right, not since you met Mia. He swallowed, choosing his words carefully. ‘It isn’t fair to keep this going, not now my head is mixed up with the idea of another woman.’
Her eyes snapped to his. ‘Is it Vicky?’
He shook his head. ‘No.’ Shame coiled through him. Both had known about the other, but where before he thought that made it okay, now he could see it only meant he’d short-changed all of them.
‘Chloe?’
The conversation was starting to remind him of the one he’d had with Mia in the coffee shop, and he didn’t like how it made him feel. ‘Nothing happened with Chloe, and nothing’s happened with this person, either.’ He huffed out a breath. ‘It probably never will, but it still doesn’t feel right to continue seeing you.’
‘I see.’ She took a long, slow sip of her coffee, and when she finally looked at him again, her smile was tinged with sadness. ‘Well, it was good while it lasted, right?’
God, he hated doing this, hurting someone, yet it was clear that Tanya had been more invested in their time together than he’d thought. Reaching across the table, he took hold of her hand. ‘It was good, but you deserve better. And now you’re not seeing me, you’ll find it.’
She nodded. ‘Maybe. And what about you? Will you find it, too?’
That was a great question. ‘I don’t know.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I only know I’ve reached a crossroads and rather than keep going down the same path, I’m wondering about taking a different one.’
Chapter Sixteen
When Mia made it to her desk on Monday morning, coffee mug in hand, still wearing her PJs, she found activity going on in the flats opposite. Immaculate Woman was feverishly typing away on her computer, fully dressed, though this time her long brown hair was loose. In Luke’s window, there was not one, but two messages.
Sandy says
* * *
coffee @ Naomi’s
* * *
2day 11 a.m.
* * *
Nerd stuff
She suspected the last line was Luke’s own.
The second message was definitely from him, another two lines accompanied by a drawing of what looked like a paint palette.
Non-date no 3
* * *
Weds p.m.?
Good Lord, what on earth was he planning this time? Picking up a sheet of paper she wrote:
Sandy – yes
After sticking it on the glass she wondered how to reply to his invite to … paint? It couldn’t be an art gallery could it? Not that she had anything against them, but he really didn’t seem the type. As she deliberated she saw the shadow of him in the window. It looked like he was writing and sure enough, a few seconds later, he’d removed the message from Sandy and stuck another in its place.