“Na-ah. Now I have to know.” Charlie folded his hands on the table.
Thankfully, a server brought us a new round of beers, and I thanked him and took a solid gulp.
“I have a pink gym bottle. It’s less likely to get mixed up with some other dude’s black or green.”
“Smart. But what about it?”
“So I’ve been watching porn and got really horny, obviously. And didn’t have any dildos…”
Charlie gasped, hand on cheeks, full-on Deadpool-style. “You did not!”
I nodded. “I tried, but it wouldn’t go in, even with plenty of lube.”
“That’s extremely dangerous. It doesn’t have a flared base.”
“I know. I was horny and stupid.”
“Was, huh?”
“Still am. But when I use my fingers, I get distracted and come too fast.” A couple passing us by gave me an odd look but continued walking. Charlie ignored them completely, lured in by what I was saying. So I milked it. “So, if you’d be willing to teach me…”
Charlie straightened in his seat. “Teach you what?”
“Ass stuff.” I grinned. “I don’t trust anyone with this. And I can’t go on dating apps when I’m not sure what I’m into.”
“Clearly, it’s butt stuff.” Charlie lifted his eyebrows.
“Yeah.” I shook my head to clear it. Didn’t work. So I distracted myself by applying strawberry chapstick to my dry lips. I loved the smell of that thing, but I avoided using it in public after my gym buddies and dudes I work with laughed about it. “Sorry, I asked too much. I’ll call an Uber.” I took out my phone, kicking myself for being so honest. My stupid mouth had pushed people away so many times and yet I still blabbed around Charlie.
“I’m not saying no, but let’s talk about it later. Now, I’m coming with you.” Charlie stood up and slid a tip underneath his glass.
“I’ll be fine.” I grumbled, showing Charlie that my ride was two minutes away.
“But I want to see you home safely, anyway.” Charlie offered the crook of his arm as if he was a gentlemanly hero and I looped my hand through it. The contact and Charlie’s fond smile let me breathe easily as we made our way into the car waiting outside.
Chapter Seven
Charlie
Trent’s apartment was Spartan, with only a couch in the living room, a TV standing on the floor, and several boxes lined against the wall. The kitchen had a standard Mr. Coffee, so I zoned in on that.
“Do you want coffee?” Trent asked, but he was already taking out two mugs from an otherwise empty cabinet.
“Yeah.” I wasn’t ready for this evening to end, and this was the best excuse.
Trent bent over to get filters from a bottom drawer. I doubted he was posing on purpose, but the curve of his ass and thickthighs in such a blatant display sent a wave of arousal through me.
“Good. Then you can stay longer.” He straightened up and gave me that charming smile of his, showing off his dimples. “Sorry about the state of the place. Living room furniture shopping is on my to-do list. But the bed I got is comfy and I have everything I need in the bedroom.” He stopped with a scoop full of coffee above the filter and looked at me. “I didn’t mean you should—That wasn’t an invitation.” He dumped the ground coffee in and clicked the coffeemaker on. “Unless you’re interested. I would like that. A lot.” He squeezed his head in his hands. “I said too much.”
I was smiling at his adorable fumbling, but my stomach sank at his distress. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s talk about it. We’ll go sit on the couch—it looks comfy too.” And the bedroom sounded worth a tour. I had to tread carefully, or I’d end up pulling him by the hair to his bed like a caveman to have my wicked way with him.
I lowered his hands and held onto them, listening to the music of percolating coffee, and seeing his shoulders relax. After Trent doused his coffee with milk and I added creamer to mine, we ventured into the living room.
His accidental-on-purpose invitation to his bedroom played on a loop in my mind. Denying my attraction to him was pointless, but fooling around with him carried the risk of destroying our friendship.
“Did you enjoy the game?” Trent held his mug in both hands as if warming them on a chilly day. How fun would it be to sit together under blankets on a porch and look at the rain? Very.
“I loved watching you enjoying it more than the action on the court itself.” Honesty was the way to go, and I’d be shit at pretending I’d known what had been going on.
