‘Yeah, sure,’ she responds, picking up her wine glass again.
‘I seem to remember telling you your pussy tasted good.’
It’s unfortunate that she inhales her wine. It’s not the reaction I’d hoped for.
I pat her back and make the appropriate enquiries. Does she need help? A fresh glass of water? Would it help if I took her somewhere quiet and ate her out?
‘Stop. Just stop with the whole wooing thing.’ Her voice is hoarse, and her eyes are still watering.
‘Thank fuck,’ I respond. ‘I thought my aim was way off my mark.’
Eyes out on stalks, her response is a, ‘You’ve got to be kidding. I’m not wooed!’
‘Turned on?’ It’s a decent second best. ‘I’m just not very good at this sort of stuff.’
‘I disagree,’ she says with a huffy laugh. ‘I let you finger me in a nightclub and took off my panties in a hotel elevator—with a security camera. And take that dangerous smile someplace else.’
‘Dangerous,’ I purr. ‘How so?’
‘Sexy and smirky. And irritating.’
I ignore the last bit. ‘But that’s sex. I can do that without thinking. Look,’ I say, inhaling one deep breath before expelling words. ‘I don’t date, and I’m rarely interested in a fucking one person at a time.’
‘You slept with me?’
‘I did say rarely. And I prefer fucked.’
‘Wow, you’re such a sweet talker,’ she deadpans.
‘Agreed. I’m crap at this, but I want you to know I’d give it all up. For you.’
‘Give what up, exactly?’
‘The club, everything.’
Her reaction comes as a surprise. It’s not what I want or expect. She looks horrified.
‘No! Absolutely not!’
‘Why? You’re attracted to me, and more than you want me to know. We’re compatible in so many ways, and I’m just asking you to think about it. To try.’
‘Try to do what?’ Am I so bad at this she doesn’t understand? ‘Why me? What did I do?’
‘Fuck. Come on; I’m hardly the booby prize.’ I hold my arms out wide, trying to sell the idea of me as a boyfriend. ‘As for why, I’ve no idea. I’ve been trying to fight this off, but these feelings? It’s like a cold that just won’t bloody well let go.’
‘I say again,wow. Maybe I should take some time to process... this woo.’
‘I’m screwing this all up. I know it’s fast, but it seems like that’s the way with us—my family, I mean. Look at Rory and Fin—they went from zero to engaged in the blink of an eye! Our own mother did the same... but, okay,’ I say hesitantly, realising this might not be the best example. ‘Yeah, so that didn’t work out very well. But our granny? She was married within the month and spent something like forty years with her husband.’
Why didn’t that help? Why does the lassie look dazed?
‘But Kit,’ she responds eventually. And like she’s talking to a mental patient. ‘How am I supposed to believe you’d fight your nature just for a chance to be with me?’
‘The club isn’t my nature.’ Of this, I’m adamant. ‘I might be bisexual, but I don’t need the other stuff.’
‘Do I even want to know?’
‘I’m trying to tell you I want to do this. With you. That I want to be with you. Exclusively.’
