Page 25 of Fumbling for Perfection

Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

My phone chimes in my pocket and I ignore it.

She must have heard it because she asks, “Are you ever going to tell me what name you saved me under in your phone?”

Teasing her is too much fun. “Nope.”

“Let me guess. Booty Call. Hotel Ho. One Night—”

I stop in my tracks and yank her into my chest. Tipping her chin up with my fingers, I stare into her wide eyes and slowly shake my head. “Don’t.”

Don’t cheapen what happened between us,I want to say, but I’m still not sure if it will scare her away. To me, tonight is about seeing where things could go between us. For her, I’m still not sure. Friends? She’s too sweet to kick me to the curb, but that doesn’t mean she wants to hook up anytime I’m in town.

Needing to lighten the mood and erase the tension on her face, I give her a hint, “It isn’t anything I haven’t called you before.”

She scrunches her brows and I release her from my hold, keeping our hands locked.

We walk for another hour until I feel her fingers turn cold. “How about a hot drink?” I pull open the door to Dunkin and the aroma of rich coffee and sugary sweets wafts over me.

“I could go for a hot chocolate.”

When I’m paying for our drinks, Riley presses her front to my right side and slides her hand in my front pocket, and I freeze. I hold my breath as my cock turns rock hard. With both hot chocolates in my hands, I turn my head to her and watch as her mouth turns up into a wicked smile.

A second later, I feel her tug my cell phone out of my pocket. There’s no way she’ll guess my screen lock code, and I can shield my face with the cups to prevent her from unlocking.

Riley giggles and moves away from me and I follow her out the door. She has her phone in her hand as well and types away. My cell phone buzzes with an incoming text and my jaw drops at her resourcefulness. I’m impressed.

With another giggle, she shimmies her shoulders and gives me a,I tricked yougrin. I watch as her eyes drop to my phone and she reads what must be the notification from her phone. Her confident smile freezes, then drops as she stares at my phone.

When she lifts her gaze to mine, I lift one of the cups of hot chocolate to my lips and take a slow sip, not breaking eye contact.

Riley does that lip thing I fucking love, and I wish it were my teeth clamping down on her.

“Perfection?” she asks in a whisper.

I lift my shoulder in a relaxed shrug and hand her one of the cups. She returns her phone to the front pocket of her vest and takes the hot chocolate before handing me back my phone. I tuck it away and reach for her hand again.

“Sure,” I say, blowing it off like the word doesn’t mean what it does. “You called out to God—me—when I gave you orgasms, and I called you perfection.”

It’s not exactly the same. I didn’t call her that, I said herbodywas perfection. That was only partially true. Her entire being is perfection. We walk in silence for a few blocks, but Riley doesn’t pull away. If anything, her body is closer to mine, occasionally bumping into me as we make our way down the city streets.

Too soon, we’re in front of my hotel. This is it. This is where I prove my dick doesn’t rule me. In my thirty-two years, it’s never been the boss of me. But it likes Riley. A lot. Like, alota lot.

ButIlike her a lot a lot as well, and I’m not going to ruin what could potentially be a good thing by scaring her off with my dick. Not that my dick scares her. She had a great time with it a few weeks ago.

I clear my throat and stop to the side of the entrance so we’re not in anyone’s way. Releasing her hand, I take our empty cups and toss them in the nearby trash can before turning to her and framing her face in my palms. She gasps and retreats, and I drop my hands.

“Sorry.” She scrunches her nose in that adorable way again. “Your hands are cold.”

I chuckle. “Sorry. My bad.” I blow on them and run them through her hair instead, cupping the back of her neck but not drawing her in to my body, afraid the wood I’m packing might frighten her. “Thank you for the tour.”

“I didn’t exactly show you around. Thank you for the walk.”

She’s right. She didn’t point out any of the museums I barely noticed as we passed them. We didn’t hit the Freedom Trail or visit Faneuil Hall. Yet it was the most perfect evening. Boston is quickly becoming my favorite city and it has nothing to do with the city itself, but everything to do with who lives here.

“I had a good time tonight, Riley.” My fingers make lazy circles on her neck and I watch as her eyes droop. “Thank you for giving up your evening to spend with me. I wish there was something I could do to help with everything you have going on.”

I could, but she needs towantmy help.

---