Chapter 8

MALLORY

Tom Zajik was a nice guy. A ginger who looked like the actor from Grey’s Anatomy, minus the Scottish accent, although he did seem to know quite about the history of Scotland, and the US Civil War.

It wasn’t all that exciting because I wasn’t much of a history buff, but it did prove he was smart.

A deep thinker. We spent dinner swapping student stories and the differences between teaching littles and teenagers.

He was thoughtful, insightful, interesting, kinda cute, although only handsome like Bridge said. And he had the bladder of a peanut.

He paid the check, and we were leaving the restaurant when he diverted to the men’s room near the entrance. He knew exactly where it was because he’d already gone twice. Yeah, peanut bladder.

I stood in the lobby waiting for him and stared up at the vaulted entry, the logs that made the entire place blend in with the whole western theme. Was this it? Would he ask me to go back to his place? Should I ask him to follow me home for a nightcap? Who said nightcap anyway? What was a nightcap?

Fudge. I thought I was supposed to be hot and bothered from being with a guy, not anxious and–

“Mal.”

I spun on my cute heel I got at an end of season sale last year. My anxious thinking made me miss Tom’s return.

And Theo.

Theo James.

What the… what? Why was Theo here?

They stood side by side eyeing me. Next to Theo, Tom was a golden retriever, all earnest and gentle, filled with random facts about something that happened a century ago.

Theo was big, broad, and looked like a grumpy badass.

Not that he appeared ready to kick the shit out of anyone, but his usual intense stare was in full force.

I felt small, feminine, and a little flustered whenever I was in his vicinity.

And my vagina? The one that was the topic of our conversation the day before?

Yeah, her. She was into Theo, pretty much crying at the sight of him.

Which meant I got wet just looking at the guy.

Not Tom, my date, but Theo. The guy who appeared out of nowhere.

I looked from one, to the other, then back. My cheeks flushed and my heart rate kicked up so fast I got a head rush just like all the other times I ran into Theo.

“Theo…”

“You know him?” Tom asked, eyeing him and not in a good way. Like he had to pee again and wanted to do it on my leg. Maybe Tom was a little more manly than I thought.

I nodded, licked my lower lip. “This is Bridget’s boyfriend’s brother.” Since Tom knew Bridget from work, he didn’t need further explanation.

I looked to Theo. “What… what are you doing here?”

Tom and Theo shifted to give room to a man who helped a woman into her coat.

“Listen, Mal, I have to go,” Tom said before Theo could answer my question. He looked a little uncomfortable. Angry. Both.

My attention pulled my date’s way and I frowned. “What? Now?”

Now that we had dinner and we were supposed to have sex? Now when my panties were wet?

Theo leaned in a little. “Diarrhea,” he whispered, thumbing over his shoulder toward the bathroom.

Tom flushed redder than his hair. “God, shit. Fuck, I mean, not shit. Listen, I had a nice time and all, but I can’t um… yeah.”

He gave Theo a quick glance, then fled.

I stared out the glass entry doors and watched him disappear. Theo didn’t say anything, just seemed to be waiting patiently as I processed being abandoned by my date.

“Did that just happen?” I asked.

Out of the corner of my eye, Theo shrugged.

I turned to face him, smacked his arm. “I can’t believe you just told me he had diarrhea.

You might be a doctor and all and talk about bodily functions all day long, but he must be mortified.

Especially since you ran into him in the bathroom.

He’s never going to talk to me again because of that alone.

I mean, if it was reversed and that had been me, I’d literally move to another state. It’s that mortifying.”

I blanched at the possibility. I’d done some crazy stuff, but not diarrhea on a date.

“It’s just a loose, watery bowel movement that can be explosive. He just needs to eat more fiber.”

My mouth dropped open. How could a guy so hot be so… blasé?

I spun around and aimed for the front doors. I had to get out of here and away from men with random facts about weird shit. Literally, shit.

“Are you serious right now?” I asked when I discovered he followed.

“Aren’t I always?”

Yes. Yes, he was.

“Did you drive yourself here?” he asked, following closely. Clearly, he wasn’t going to apologize.

“Yes,” I replied on a huff.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” He snagged my coat from my arm, and I had no choice but to stop so he could help me into it. “Come on.”

“Why were you standing there anyway?” I asked, shifting topics. Tom was long gone and wasn’t coming back. Not tonight and probably not ever.

“I came out of the bathroom behind your date, and I saw you. It would’ve been rude not to say hello.”

That was nice. And true.

“Yes, but why are you here?” I waved my hand around the parking lot indicating The Lodge.

“I’ve heard you run into people all the time in small towns.”

“That’s your answer? Do you always have to be so vague?”

He shook his head, his dark gaze meeting my eyes, then dropping to my mouth. “Bridget told me about the place, and I thought I would get carry-out. I’m not much of a cook,” he admitted, following me closely as we cut through the parking lot.

With the time change that had recently happened, it was already dark, but the restaurant had plenty of outdoor lighting.

I stopped in front of my car and reached in my purse for my keys.

“Were you going to have sex with him?”

My head whipped up, keys forgotten.

“What?” I stared at him wide eyed, his question bold. And intrusive.

He crossed his arms over his chest. Ones I now realized wasn’t inside a coat. He only wore a dress shirt and dark pants, something similar to what he wore for my appointment the day before. The night was chilly and would dip below freezing, yet he didn’t look cold at all.

In fact, he looked hot. As in H.O.T.

“You said yesterday Bridget fixed you up on a date with a fellow teacher and that you’re going to have sex with him,” he reminded.

“I… um, yes.” What use was lying? He knew.

“Except with his… um, bathroom problems, it probably wasn’t going to happen.

He did go twice during dinner.” I thought back to every weird sign from the meal.

Did I give him the shits? No. Not unless it was like the norovirus that swept through the middle school last February and took out almost all of the students and staff. I felt fine.

This was a date, not norovirus. If he didn’t want to go out again, he could have just said, thanks, but no thanks. Or I don’t like women who can’t appreciate Sherman’s March to the Sea.

Whatever. But diarrhea? That was quite an excuse to bail.

Was I that bad of a date? I ran my tongue over my teeth then I reached behind me and patted my butt.

“What are you doing?” he said, his gaze following my actions.

“Making sure I don’t have bad breath, or the back of my dress isn’t tucked up in my underwear like that one time when I was five.”

He frowned. “You’re fine. Completely fine.”

Theo looked at me, then scanned the parking lot, as if searching for Tom and if he was going to return.

His dark gaze finally met mine. “Did you see the OBGYN referral yet?” he asked, giving me mental whiplash.

“No. I have an appointment Monday.”

He nodded once. “Then you aren’t personally protected from pregnancy.”

I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks. “What does this have to do with–”

“You said you didn’t want to have kids.”

He sure listened.

“I don’t. I definitely don’t.” No way was I bringing a child into my fucked up family. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” I said on a sigh. “He’s clearly not here to fuck me now.”

I thought I had a good shot at it. Attractive guy. Interested, or so I thought. Pretty yellow underwear to get him the rest of the way interested.

Theo’s gaze dropped and raked over my body. Slowly, thoroughly. I tried not to squirm, unlike the day before on the exam table. Like then, I had to wonder if he could see through my clothes. At least this time I had panties and a bra.

“You want sex. I’ll give it to you.”

Bomb dropped.

“Whaaaaaaaaaat?” I practically shouted. Had I heard him correctly. I glanced around to see if anyone else caught it because I thought I was wrong, but then to make sure this crazy convo couldn’t be overheard. “I don’t want… pity sex.”

“What the hell is pity sex?”

“When you do it only because you want to make the other person feel better.”

“I’ll make you feel good, there’s no doubt.”

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