Page 12 of Drive Me Wild
“You don’t date,” I remind him. Theo goes through women faster than he can drive his car. He’s made it crystal clear to anyone who will listen that his lifestyle doesn’t leave room for anything significant. Whereas I crave commitment and stability, he craves sex and random women AirDropping him nudes. Water, meet oil.
He tilts his head. “Yes, I do.”
“Babes, I’ve had leftovers that’ve lasted longer than any of your so-called relationships.” I throw a chip at him, and it bounces off his arm and onto the floor. “You don’t date; you fuck around.”
Theo scratches his chin in thought. “Relationships are a distraction.”
“From what?” I laugh. “Video games?”
“Yes.” He laughs. “And my career. That comes first. Always has, always will.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Walker. It shouldn’t be a distraction; it should be anaddition.” I hit him with the opening lines of Deon Jackson’s “Love Makes the World Go Round.”
Theo takes a sip of his martini, his lips puckering at the sour taste. “You still feel that way, even after your breakup?”
“Yes,” I answer automatically. I love love. It’s probably why I tend to fall fast and hard and can’t really remember the last time I was single. Pet names, morning cuddles, late-night phone calls, merging friend groups and meeting one another’s families, slow sex filled with words of adoration, steamy sex filled with grunts and groans. All of it. “Even if they’re not your person, youstill learn about yourself. What you need in a relationship, what you’re looking for.”
I already know what I needina relationship. What I don’t know is what I need to be happyoutof a relationship.
Theo nods before placing his hand over mine and moving his thumb over my knuckles. “How’re you doing with all of that? I mean, I know you’re okay because you’re better than your douche canoe of an ex, but how’re youactuallydoing?”
I roll my eyes at the dig. There’s no need for me to defend Andrew, although I wouldn’t call him a “douche canoe.”
“I’m doing fine,” I admit truthfully. “It’s more the adjustment of being alone.”
“You’re never alone.” I’m expecting him to say something cutesy like he’ll always be there for me but instead, he says, “With the amount you talk, angel, I’m sure there’s more than enough thoughts going on in that pretty little head of yours to keep you company.”
“Pot calling the kettle black.”
He chuckles into his drink, small bubbles dancing across the top. “Let’s play truth or dare.”
I roll my eyes.Is he twelve? Does he want to play spin the bottle next? Seven minutes in heaven?“You can’t be serious?—”
“Truth or dare,” he says, taking a long sip of his martini. Theo’s nosier than a middle-aged woman eavesdropping at a salon. I wouldn’t go as far to say he’s a gossip, but helovesbeing in the know. I can see the questions bouncing around in his head.
“Truth,” I decide after a moment.
“What are your boobs named?” He says it so quickly that there’s no way he hasn’t been thinking about asking me this the entire night. It’s also not the first time he’s asked me this. He’s under the impression that all women name their boobs. I haveno idea who gave him this idea, and why he won’t believe me when I tell him he’s clinically insane.
My arms immediately cover my chest in a protective manner. “I change my mind. Give me a dare.”
“Idareyou to tell me what you named your tits,” he replies without missing a beat.
I mutter under my breath. Stubborn may as well be his middle name. I guess I should be happy he didn’t ask me to divulge details about my breakup. He’s been surprisingly respectful about it, no prying or unwarranted questions. Yet.
“There’s no rule clarifying that a dare can’t be a truth, just so you know,” he justifies with a cocky grin. “So hit me with your answer, Bancroft.”
His eyes momentarily flicker down to my chest.
“Mybreastsdo not have names,” I huff. At this point, I debate making something up just so he’ll drop it. I bet whoever Airdropped him named her boobssomething like Athena and Aphrodite.
“C’mon. You’re telling me you didn’t name your boobs? I’ll tell you what I named my balls to even the playing field if you want.”
I fight the urge to dump the entire basket of chips over his head. Why would I want to know that? I already know his dick is named Theo Junior, and that’s bad enough. Especially when he talks about it in the third person.
“It’s a wonder I’ve been able to resist your flirting for so long,” I mumble with an eye roll.
“No need to resist me any longer now that you’re single, babe.” He swipes a chip from the basket and pops it into his mouth. “I’m here to service you in any way you please.”
