“I’ve been seeing this guy off and on. And I like him. I mean, he’s fun.”
“He’s good in bed.” One of Carson’s eyebrows peaks. He knows.
Biting my lower lip, I nod.
He nudges my leg. “How good?”
“Jealous?”
Lifting a single shoulder, he twists his lips. “Should I be?”
I shut my laptop and rest my head in my hands. “I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s some God-given gift. It’s pheromones. Chemistry. Something more than memorizing the playbook. It’s not better.” Lifting my head, I shake it. “Or maybe it is. I’m not sure. It’s just different. We just almost fit.”
Carson grins. “Just almost fit? I take it close isn’t good enough.”
“Close is worse than completely being the wrong fit. It’s like the puzzle piece that almost fits. You try it a hundred times because it’s so damn close, and you really want it to be the right piece.”
“So what’s the snag? Why is he not the perfect fit?”
Grunting a quick laugh, I shift my gaze just over Carson’s shoulder because I can’t tell him the truth and look him in the eye. “He doesn’t like my favorite book.”
Silence.
After a good ten seconds, I risk direct eye contact.
“I’m sorry. Did you just say he doesn’t like your favorite book?”
I knew he’d react this way, but I still frown like I expected a different reaction. “If a girl you liked didn’t like your dog, it would be a dealbreaker and you know it.”
He sits up straight, withdrawing his leg from its spot next to mine. “Yo … you know my dog’s name is Gilbert, and you can’t compare a dog to a book. Sorry. Nice try. Now go tell Mr. Almost Perfect that you screwed up and let a book get in the way.”
“I love Gilbert and you know it, but I don’t love you at the moment, even if we’re forever friends with benefits. Just because you don’t read anything that’s not a blog, doesn’t make books anything short of the perfect soulmate.”
“Whoa … maybe I need to read this soulmate book.”
“No. You don’t. If you don’t love it, we’ll be over. If you do love it, you’ll have to marry me. And if I’m being perfectly honest, I have a slight allergy to dogs.”
“Seriously?” He cocks his head to the side.
My nose scrunches. “Seriously. I love him, but I always leave with an itchy throat, watery eyes, and some phlegm.”
“You’re right. I can’t read the book and risk having to marry you. If I have to choose, I’ll choose Gilbert.”
I smile. “If I were in your shoes, I'd choose him too. Allergies aren’t sexy, and I won’t lick your legs after you get back from jogging. I know that’s important to you.”
“So … maybe we save you from phlegm and just go to your place tonight if you have no intention of choosing Mr. Almost Perfect over your hardbound soulmate.”
I slide my laptop into my bag. “My copy is actually a paperback.”
“That’s unfortunate.” Carson has a special kind of sarcasm that makes it impossible to keep a straight face.
“It really is.” I sling my bag over my shoulder and head toward the door.
Carson slides past me to open it. “Did you bike?”
“You betcha.” I nod toward the black horseshoe-shaped beam with my bike locked to it.
“I can give you a ride home and we can get your bike in the morning.”
“It’s supposed to rain. And I’m not that comfortable with leaving my new bike here all night. That lock isn’t topnotch.”
“I’ll drive slowly then.” He unlocks his car as I unlock my chain.
“The race is on.” I wink and take off before he gets into his silver Mercedes.
In spite of crawling through the streets of downtown and intentionally hitting all the red lights, he still beats me to my lofts. I push my bike past him as if I don’t see him leaned against the maple tree with one leg crossed over the other, looking quite casual.
“Who’s letting Gilbert out?” I ask as if I’m talking to the wind, looking straight ahead at the door.
Carson pushes off the tree and follows me. “My neighbor.”
“The one you slept with?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.” He opens the door for me after I swipe my card over the reader.
“Such a man whore.”
“Yet, here you are … taking me to your place for the night.”
“Not to have sex.” I lock up my bike and continue to the stairs.
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa …” He grabs my hand to stop me.
I let him turn me toward him just before the stairway door. “Whoa what?”
“I’m not here to cuddle.”
“I can’t have sex with you.”
He laughs, sliding his arms around my waist. “And why not? Is it that time of the month? I’m good with shower sex.”
Nibbling at the corner of my bottom lip, I shake my head.
“No? Then what?” He cants his head.
“I’d rather not say.” I escape his embrace and jog up the stairs with him right behind me.
“Vague is not your MO. What’s going on?”
Before I can answer, Eric’s door opens. He fills the space with his shirtless torso and his usual sexy jeans—freshly showered hair. It’s weird that a guy who owns a shirt shop wears one so infrequently. Was he watching for me?
“Hey.” My mouth tries to find a casual smile where my lips don’t quiver as much as my voice. Total fail.
“Hi.” Eric’s gaze goes straight to Carson.
“Sorry …” I settle for the fake, awkward, totally nervous grin. “Um … Eric, Carson. Carson, Eric.”
No handshakes are swapped, just two men sizing each other up. It’s like they both know I’ve had sex with the other one.
“You staying?”
Wow. Just … wow. Gotta hand it to Eric. He wastes no time getting right to the point—not that who I sleep with is a point or any of his business for that matter.
“Why should you care?” Carson rests his hand on the small of my back.
Eric ignores the possessive move on Carson’s part, keeping his gaze locked to mine. “We had sex in the bathroom of the bouldering gym about seven hours ago. No condom. I’m just saying … proceed with caution. You don’t know where my dick has been. Have a good night.” He takes a step back.
The door shuts like a gavel after a final ruling: my life sucks.
Kill me now.
Carson steps in front of me, forcing me to acknowledge him—to answer the question before he asks it. I don’t need to answer it. The truth blooms in my cheeks and wrinkles my entire face as a permanent cringe.
“Now I know why we’re not having sex tonight.” He shakes his head before rolling his eyes to the ceiling. A long, heavy breath shoots out his nose as he bites his lips together.
“I …” I rub my temples. “I can’t believe he just said that.”
“Well …” Carson grunts, returning his attention to me. “It’s definitely the thing to say when you don’t want some other guy fucking your girl.”