Page 92 of Experiments in Offline Dating

“No showing that to my father, you hear me? He’s never to see it. Under penalty of death.”

“Why not? He’d love it!”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.” He looked down, and so did I. My hand was on his knee.

I had braced myself against it when he’d drawn me in for the photo, and I hadn’t noticed that I’d left it there. I did a big gasp and looked at him with huge eyes. “Oh no!”

He took my hand and made a big show out of moving it back to my own knee. “Hands to yourself, Davis.”

I laughed. “What will happen? Will you be totally overcome with lust? Throw me over your shoulder and march back to the hotel and ravish me till morning? Who could have known you had such sensitive knees?”

Theeeere it is. There’s that furrowed brow. I’d almost missed it.

“Don’t talk like that!”

“Oh, come on. I’m just playing.”

“I know you are. But look.” He turned his stool away and stared at the saws. “If this is going to work . . . you can’t say stuff like that, okay?”

“Oh. You’re for real? I’m sorry. I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I? I thought I was being funny.” I sobered a bit. “Crap. Sorry, Tadhg.”

He put his head down, rubbed the back of his neck, and sucked a breath between his teeth. “Look. I’m not uncomfortable. At least not the way you think. I mean, we’re here, and we’re drinkin’, and you’re touching me. And saying stuff like that. It’s just . . . Look. You already know what I’m trying to say.”

I laughed. “I don’t have any idea what you’re trying to say! I’m no good at guessing feelings. And you’re making a mess of explaining.”

“Come on. Don’t make me do this.”

“If we don’t talk about it, then how am I supposed to know how you’re feeling? And look at you. You can’t even look at me. You’re staring at that saw like it’s your salvation.”

“Okay, fine, goddammit.” He spun around to look at me again. His face was taut, aggravated. “We agreed to just be friends . . . but when you say stuff like that . . . it makes me.” Something flashed in his dark eyes. Something consuming. It tugged at my stomach. Pulled me in. My body leaned a fraction closer without my willing it to. “You’re killing me, Maya.”

That phrase. I finally got it. Those four little words injected red-hot lust into my bloodstream like a drug. I was killing him? I was making it difficult to be just friends? This information—the sound of his voice, the look in his eyes—swallowed me whole. Meteors ignited and soared in my belly. If I just tilt my head and lean in a little farther, I could taste him again. His beautiful mouth would—

“Rules! We should make a protocol!” My voice was way too loud.

“What?”

“Yeah. Rules fix everything. I love rules. We agree that any slipups would be a terrible idea. So let’s set some boundaries. Make sure we don’t have any more. Slipups, I mean!”

He laughed. The moment snapped, a rubber band pulled too tight, and I could breathe again. Thank God.

“All right. I’ll play along. Let’s hear your rules, then.”

“Hmmm . . . I hadn’t gotten that far yet. Let’s see . . .” I grabbed a napkin off the bar and the pen that I’d signed the receipt with. “Right, I feel like Rules Number One and Two are pretty obvious.”

“Go on, then.”

“‘Rule Number One—no sex,’” I wrote as I read aloud and then added “‘under any circumstances.’” Tadhg cleared his throat. “‘Rule Number Two—no kissing on the lips.’”

“On the lips? Sooo . . . kissing in other places . . .?”

My body heated all over. My fingers tingled. Other parts of me also tingled. My mind went immediately to his warm mouth between my legs.

“Nope.” I scratched it out about a thousand times and ripped a hole in the napkin. “‘Rule Number Two—no kissing. ANYWHERE.’” I wrote it in all caps. “‘Rule Number Three—no turning each other on.’”

“Wait. How are we supposed to follow that?”

“Well, for starters—no unnecessary handholding.”