Page 18 of The Broker

There was a tug in my chest, like a rope being pulled taut. The force of it was so intense, I struggled to reply. “Anytime.”It had come out sounding playful, but I’d meant it. “I needed it too.”

She finally turned to look at me, and her eyes were unfocused. Was she adrift in her thoughts? I reached over and trailed my fingers along her jaw line, urging her to come closer and meet me halfway for a kiss.

There was another pull in my chest when our mouths came together, and this time it was more powerful. Far too big to write off or ignore. I had the terrifying thought that my body longed for her, like a magnet when it came close to another, drawn together.

I didn’t want a conventional relationship, and I wasn’t interested in romance or finding a soul mate. It meant I didn’t ‘date,’ at least not in the traditional sense.

And yet, at the end of our kiss, the question just popped out of my mouth. “So, when’s our next date?”

Charlotte drew in a deep breath, and her gaze dropped from mine. She stared at the center of my chest like it was more interesting than her Instagram feed. Abruptly, she turned and flopped over onto her back. Her face skewed with an expression that looked a hell of a lot like distress.

“About that,” she said.

But nothing followed it.

She paused for so long I wasn’t sure anything else was coming, and the moment hung tense between us. Was she going to reveal she didn’t want anything else from me? I should have been excited about her hesitation. I’d brought her home, hoping for that outcome.

So why the fuck was I worried she was going to say this was a one-time thing?

Finally, she pushed out what she’d been holding on to. “I know I said I don’t have sex on the first date, and I don’t, but...”

Oh. I let out a knowing laugh. “Not on the second date either, huh?”

She shook her head. “I don’t sleep with a guy,” she turned and set her nervous gaze on mine, “until I’m in love with him.”

I froze, and a million thoughts darted through my brain in that moment, but only a single word could escape my lips. “Oh.”

It was clear she was waiting for more from me, but what the fuck was I supposed to say? I was willing to explore more with her, butlove?

That wasn’t going to happen.

Getting involved with her would be cruel—I’d just be leading her on.

“Well, full disclosure,” I said, “I don’t really do ‘love.’”

She looked dubious. “What do you mean, you don’t do ‘love?’”

My post orgasm brain left me unfiltered. “I’ve got a lot going on right now. I don’t have time for it.”

It was like I told her I only wanted to invest in GameStop. “I’m sorry, you don’t have time for it? Who doesn’t have time for love?”

I didn’t like how judgmental she was being, even if part of me worried she had a point. “Seriously, I don’t have time for it.” I mashed the pillow under my head and frowned. I needed to be truthful and set expectations. “Really, I don’t have any interest in it. Maybe you think that makes me a dick, but I’m being honest here. I don’t want or need romance.”

Charlotte’s mouth hung open as she processed my statement.

Then confusion narrowed her eyes. “Okay, why’d you ask me for a second date?” Disgust abruptly swept through her face. “Oh, I gotcha. You’ll pretend you’re interested until you close the deal, and then you’ll ghost me.”

Irritation heated me up, but it was partially self-directed. I understood that it sounded bad, but... “That wasn’t what I was going to do.”

She didn’t believe a word of it, judging by the way she sat up, fished her bra from the tangled sheets, and hurried to put it on.

“Okay, just wait a minute. Let me explain.”

Um, how are you going to do that? You don’t even know why you asked her for a second date.

She turned to look at me over her shoulder, waiting impatiently for me to continue. I scratched the center of my forehead, willing the words to come.

“I don’t date,” I said. “Not in the traditional way, at least. I do better when my relationships are,” I searched for the right word, “transactional.”

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