54. Chapter 54
Chapter 54
David choked on his Cardigans of the Galaxy Double IPA at her bluntness and immediately began coughing.
“Oh, my God, are you okay?” Paige asked, slapping him on the back.
“Yeah. Yeah, no worries,” he told her, when he’d finally stopped.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. I was just taken by surprise, that’s all. You’re, uh, really good at that complete honesty shit, aren’t you?”
“I think I might have been a little too good, there. Sorry about that.” Paige made a face, thinking how uncomfortable he must be, now, after she’d detonated that nuclear bomb on his ass. It hadn’t been her intention to take their conversation down such a rabbit hole, and now she wasn’t sure how to climb out of it.
David saw her discomfort, and it gave him pause. He didn’t want her to be embarrassed at voicing what she wanted, especially since it was the biggest indicator of her recovery. Wanting to find a man and fuck his brains out was a very good thing, and even though it crushed David a little to know that man wouldn’t be him … it was still a very good thing. “Don’t be sorry. It’s fine,” he insisted. Then, adopting a curious expression, he asked, “So … have you been actively looking for this man?”
Paige nodded slowly. “Yes, and I have a feeling it’s going to take a while. Which is fine, because no matter how ready I think I am, this isn’t something I can afford to rush into. I have to be careful. I don’t want to get into a sexual situation and have it fall apart on me like it used to, and find out I’m still not able to enjoy sex, because that would be devastating. I also don’t want another man to experience what you did with me—”
“Paige.”
“What? I don’t.”
She gave him a look that said Don’t argue with me, and held it until he put his hands up in surrender.
“So, that being said, I’ve gone out with several men in the past few months, and so far it’s been, um, how do I say this? It’s been really, really disappointing. I haven’t had more than one date with any of them, which isn’t even the most disappointing part—”
“What? Really?”
“Really. It’s funny—well, not really funny—but do you remember the guy I was with that night at Bender’s? Hale?”
“Yes. The guy in the suit.”
“Well, that’s actually the best date I’ve had so far.”
“What?”
“I mean the connection that I felt with Hale. We had this great chemistry, but unfortunately it ended up not going anywhere, because I couldn’t separate him from what happened that night. He tried so hard to get me to change my mind and go out with him again, but I just couldn’t.”
Recalling Hale’s concern for Paige in the hospital and his unhappiness when he’d left, David knew the connection had obviously gone both ways. “I’m sorry,” he said, thinking how differently the last few months would’ve played out for Paige had she never crossed paths with him and Ashley that night.
And, on the flip side, how different the last few months would’ve played out for him and Ashley.
“I’m sorry, too,” Paige said. “Hale was one of the good ones, unlike the majority of men I’ve gone out with.”
“Has it really been that bad?”
Paige took a deep breath and released it, her cheeks puffing out. “Unfortunately, yes. Now, I realize I’ve been away from the dating scene for a while and I recently completed extensive therapy for sexual abuse, so there’s a chance I could be reacting in an overly sensitive manner, but …” she trailed off for a second. “The more men I go out with, the more I think the problem isn’t me. Unless the problem is that I’m a magnet for men on the douchebag spectrum, which actually could be the case considering my track record.”
“Douchebag spectrum?”
“Jules came up with that and it’s very real. When I made the decision to start dating, she warned me about it and I had no idea what she was talking about.” Paige shook her head. “I figured out what she was talking about really quick. My introduction to the spectrum was on my second date, with a guy who squeezed my boob before he even tried to kiss me—”
“What?”
“Yeah. He apologized, but that was the end of him. Then there was the guy who wanted to meet at Applebee’s for a drink and an appetizer. An appetizer,” she repeated with disgust. “Not even dinner. And it was happy hour, so my drink was half-price. Then he had the balls to suggest we ‘get to know each other better’ at his place, but there wasn’t a chance in hell that was going to happen. Not only was he a cheap-ass, but he probably had less experience with a woman’s clit than I did.”
“That seems kind of harsh.” David chuckled, unable to stop himself. “Just because he was a cheap-ass didn’t mean his fingers weren’t magical. But that’s something you’ll never know, now.”
“You’re right. And I’ve never once regretted not knowing. Especially not after seeing him eat a bunch of chicken wings dripping with barbecue sauce.”
David’s chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh. “Fair enough. So, was he your worst date?”
“I wish. No, my worst date was with a guy who was actually married.”
“What the fuck?” he asked, his laughter dying a quick death.
“That’s what I said when I found out.”
“Hopefully you found out early in the date?”
“Not early enough,” she answered drily. “Not that it was really going anywhere, anyway, but I did waste valuable time on this guy—not just the time I spent with him, but also the time I spent getting ready.”
He took a drink of beer and thought back to something she’d said. “So if the majority of the men you’ve gone out with are on the douchebag spectrum, what about the men that aren’t on it?”
She gave a long shrug, accompanied by a Meh expression. “The ones not on it have been nice and the dates were pretty good, but ‘pretty good’ isn’t good enough. If I’m not feeling anything after the first date, then I don’t think I’ll feel anything after the second. And I’m not settling. Not even for the guy that sort of looked like Jamie Fraser—”
“Who?”
“Jamie Fraser.”
“Again, who?”
“From Outlander.”
“What’s Outlander?”
“You don’t know what Outlander is?”
“No. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Outlander.”
He didn’t know if she was repeating it because she thought he would suddenly know what it was, or if she was just fucking with him, but he decided enough was enough. “If you say Outlander one more time, you’re going to be sorry.”
Her eyes widened comically. “Sorry, how, tough guy?”
He narrowed his eyes and then very calmly grabbed her nearest ankle and pulled. Before she knew what was happening, he had her lower leg immobilized against his side, locked in place with his arm. Once that was done, he immediately started tickling the hell out of her foot—and since this wasn’t his first rodeo, he knew exactly where to focus his fingers.
Paige’s laughter cut off abruptly, replaced with near glass-shattering squeals.
He flinched, but instead of letting up, he doubled down.
“David, stop!”
Remembering how much she hated having a fingernail dragged down the middle of her sole, he did that several times, causing her to twitch and flail like she was being electrocuted.
“Stop!” she yelled.
“What’s the magic word?”
“Please!”
“That’s not it.”
“You fucker!”
“That really isn’t it,” he told her.
She was starting to flop around and trying to kick at him with her free foot, which he easily blocked.
“Say the magic word and all this will end,” he said. “And the magic word isn’t Outlander.”
“I’m sorry!”
“What was that? Speak up.”
“I’m sorry!”
“That’s better. How sorry?”
“Very sorry!”
“I prefer really sorry.”
“I’m really sorry!”
He stopped tickling her and let go of her foot. “Apology accepted.”
She lay there, limp and flat on her back, hardly able to move after that brutal assault. Her heart was still pounding from the rush of adrenaline and she felt like a hot, sweaty mess; strands of hair were actually sticking to her face.
It was a miracle she hadn’t pissed herself.
“Someone still plays dirty,” she muttered with a sour look, struggling to maneuver herself into an upright position.
His amusement fell away, turning into something else as he took in her disheveled appearance, from her totally fucked-up hair and flushed face, to her slightly askew sweater. She looked like she’d been engaging in some seriously energetic dry humping with someone—possibly with an orgasm involved—and he had the stunning thought that this might be what she’d look like after getting off. From there, it wasn’t much of a leap to think that was what she’d look like after getting off with him.
And … thinking about that was giving him a semi.
It took him almost ten seconds to realize that was wrong.
Slightly panicked, David searched for something else—anything else—to distract himself with, before his dick reached critical mass. His eyes darted around the room, skipping off of various objects before landing on the antique clock that he and Paige had found on one of their trips to a thrift store.
“Jesus,” he said. “Is that really the time?”
He sounded so shocked, that it caused Paige to momentarily forget the tickle assault he’d just waged on her and she glanced over her shoulder to see that it was almost 9 p.m. She found herself feeling a little shocked herself, that three hours had passed so quickly, but maybe that’s how time passed when you talked about really inappropriate things with your ex.
She could see that it was something of an issue for him, unlike the other night, so when she turned back to him, it wasn’t surprising when he told her he needed to leave. What was surprising, though was the layer of disappointment in his voice. “I’m sorry. I had to get a babysitter for tonight and I told her I’d only be gone a few hours, since it’s a school night for her.”
“I understand,” she said, even though she sort of didn’t, since she wasn’t a single parent. The only thing she was responsible for was her cat and his dependency on her was sort of flexible. “Are you okay to drive?”
David nodded and got to his feet. Paige did as well, taking a few seconds to straighten her sweater before leading him down the hall to her door, where they both stopped and looked at one another.
“Thank you for having me over,” he told her. “It was very … enlightening. Not to mention, really entertaining.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome. Thank you for listening and for wanting to listen. That means everything to me.”
The words were heartfelt, but she kept her tone light, not wanting to weigh down the moment. To her surprise, not only did he not return her smile, but his expression turned distraught just before he enveloped her in a hug—an all-encompassing, full-body impact that almost stole the air from her lungs. Surprised at his intensity, she returned the hug, holding on tight enough to feel the strong muscles of his back under her hands.
“I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice low and rough in her ear. “And at the same time, I’m not so proud of myself.”
She pulled back enough to be able to see his face. “What do you mean?”
“I’m remembering what went through my mind when I saw you that night at Bender’s.” He swallowed hard. “I was so angry at how good you looked. You were wearing make-up and lipstick and you were dressed in a way I’d never seen before. You were so confident, standing straight and tall, like a completely different person and it pissed me off. I actually thought that divorce had agreed with you and now I’m so ashamed of what I was thinking, knowing how much hell you went through and how hard you worked to be that different person. I literally hate myself for all that right now. I’m so sorry.”
Silence settled between them and he braced himself, waiting for her to tell him what an asshole he was for thinking all those terrible things about her.
“You know,” Paige began slowly, her eyes a little misty following his impassioned speech. “As far as complete honesty goes, that was pretty good.”
He blinked at her. That’s what she was focusing on?
“And apology accepted,” she added with a quick sniff. “But it wasn’t really necessary, because I understand. I was a little pissed at how good you looked, too. So, we’re even.”