Page 98 of Experiments in Offline Dating

Drag me to hell!

“Well. It’s a thin line, I suppose, but more focus on the leading couple, or love triangle, or reverse harem, or what have you. So, how much longer is the drive, do you think? Do you like driving?”

“Wait. What’s a reverse harem?”

Okay. I’m officially a fucking idiot.

I couldn’t ignore him, and changing the subject had been unsuccessful. The only answer was to go through the gauntlet. I answered quickly, cold and informative. Like ripping a Band-Aid off. I can do this. “Well, a traditional harem is one man, several wives; this is one woman, several lovers. Often for group sex.” No, I can’t!

He let out a breathy half laugh. “Yeah. Okay. I get why that’s popular.” Do you? “And I assume there’s plenty of sex in the books?”

“You assume correctly. It all depends on the novel, of course, but most romantasy is open-door.”

“What’s that?”

I looked over to see if he was teasing me. Did he know what he was doing to me? But his face, as it watched the road, looked as earnest as it ever had.

“Meaning sex on the page.”

Just checked. Yep! Still an idiot.

I couldn’t believe that I was explaining smut to Tadhg Kelly, and that he seemed curious about it. I didn’t want him to be interested in the things that I liked! The only way this worked was if he was completely and entirely unlikable. We had enjoyed each other’s company yesterday, and now this? Now we had . . . things in common. And not just anything. Books!

I wanted my mouth on his neck while we talked about magic and smut. I couldn’t help my eyes coasting across his neck. I wanted to smooth my hand down his chest and—

“Well, you’ll have to make a list of your favorites for me. I wouldn’t really classify myself as a romance reader, but I’m intrigued.”

Uh-oh. Tiny orgasm.

“Yep.” Nope! “I’ll do that.” No, I won’t!

Tadhg reading one of my romantasy recommendations might just break me. Every night we’d go to bed in different hotel rooms, and I would know that somewhere on the other side of a wall or two was Tadhg reading dirty fairy sex. I would never sleep again. And I would probably have to go to the doctor and explain why my hand had calcified into a claw from overuse.

“Is that what you’re always listening to on your headphones? At first I figured it was music, but you said something about an audiobook.”

“Yeah. All the time—when I’m doing laundry, cooking, vacuuming, walking to the studio, yoga, before bed, in the bath.”

“Reaaally.” He drew the word out, and it felt dirty as anything. I wondered if he was picturing me in the bath, listening to smut. “I’ve never listened to an audiobook, actually.”

“You what?!” My whole body turned so fast that I got whiplash. Every other stupid thing left my mind. “You’ve never listened to an audiobook?”

“Nope.”

“Not ever?”

“Nope.”

“But what about when you’re shearing all those sheep, or scrolling through sheep pictures, or driving to a faraway sheep show, or writing articles for Sheep Fancy?”

He chuckled. “Don’t forget who’s driving your arse around, you brat. I just—I’m not a big fan of technology. I like to focus on my work.”

“All right. Well. We’re listening to one. I’m signing into my Libby right this damn second.”

“Hmm. All right. I guess I could go along with that.”

“Oh, you don’t get a choice. We’ve got a lot of driving ahead of us, and the perpetual hell of your scowling silent treatment isn’t nearly as entertaining as you think it is.”

“Keep it up, Davis, and you’ll be sorry.”