Page 34 of Wine & Dine

She’d certainly done that. My dick jolts with the memory. Her lips. Her mouth. Her tongue.

Then that man called. Her asshole sex partner. Has he fucked her there? He better not.

I want to be her sex partner.

Then I stop. In all reality, I don’t want to be her sex partner. I don’t want to be her fuck buddy or friends with benefits. I’m falling for Dolores even though I promised myself I would never fall again. I like her. A lot. She’s funny and sexy without realizing it. She’s stunning when she smiles, and I want to freeze-frame each moment she gives me a rare grin.

I thought we’d made a breakthrough after her cryfest and spending the night in my arms.

She’s broken, and I want to glue her back together, but I can’t if another guy is in the picture. Then again, Dolores doesn’t live here. Her home is in Georgia. He’s in Georgia. Eventually, she’ll want to go home. I keep forgetting this fact.

I throw down my pen and tip back on my couch. My hand spreads on the cushion where she sat all day yesterday. My fingers separate as if they can feel the curve of her hip. My chest aches at her absence, and I don’t like the sensation.

I’m a guy. I’ve fucked around. I’ve left women. I’ve had my way and moved on.

Somehow, with the positions reversed, I don’t like it one bit.

“Fuck this,” I mutter aloud for the millionth time and lean forward for my laptop. It’s then that I notice an email I’ve been hoping to find. A waitlist finally had an opening, and I’m in. There’s a place I want to visit for investment purposes. I’m hoping to scope out the place as I’m still looking for that one thing for myself. That one investment. For the first time in a long time, I thought I might like to share my secret interest with someone else, but after last night, I’m no longer certain.

I can’t go through this heartbreak again.

Memories of Kate fill my head. It was years ago, but the reminders still sting. I know better than to get attached.