Page 4 of Hold Me for Now

Chapter three

Anawkwardsilencedescends.My gaze is drawn like a magnet to the bed. T’s looking at it too.

It sits there. The elephant in the room.

“I told my wife—ex—that I couldn’t do this,” T blurts out of nowhere. “She insisted I come. I said absolutely not—that I wouldn’t do it. I fought with her a lot, but she went ahead and found Dr. Desire anyway. She arranged everything. It’s been driving her nuts, thinking something’s wrong with her, even though I’ve told her a million times there’s not.”

He hangs his head. There’s defeat etched in his posture, in the forward slump of his body. “I told her it’s all me.Myfault that things are falling apart.”

The rawness in his voice tightens something deep in my chest. I recognize that kind of pain like it’s my own. I know how blame wraps around your throat, choking you. How guilt sticks like cement on your ribs, binding them together so you can’t breathe.

Without thinking, I step closer and rest my hand on his arm. T stiffens beneath my touch, his muscles taut as if he’s bracing for rejection.

I hold steady, my voice quiet but certain. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “That’s why we’re here. To figure this out. Everything is going to be fine.”

He relaxes at that. Slowly, his shoulders ease downward. His breath hitches, but not in that panicked way from before. This time, it’s something softer.

“Thanks,” he murmurs. Hesitantly, he covers my hand with his own.

That’s when I feel it.

Thatzingof attraction.

My breath catches.Oh.

I send a silentthank youto the ceiling. This was one of my greatest fears, that I’d come here to find some old guy with three-foot-long nose hair that I’d have to screw. It shows how messed up I am, that even with that terrifying image in my mind, I still showed up.

I think T feels it too, that connection, because his eyes fix on me and dilate. He’s been so anxious up to now that I don’t think he actually saw me, but suddenly his gaze dances over my face, lingering on my hair, and then down my body, over my short skirt with its metal studs and finally to my scuffed biker boots.

I smirk, relieved to focus on something besides the fact that I’m about to fuck this dude. “Guess I’m not what you were expecting?”

His eyes fly up to mine, and he reddens at being caught staring. “I—I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I’m glad it’s you.” He drops his gaze and mumbles, “You’re pretty. I like your hair.”

I laugh, the sound loud and echoing in this small room. “You don’t have to flatter me,” I tease. “You’re already going to get me in bed.”

That was the wrong thing to say. T’s mouth thins into a tight line. “That wasn’t flattery. I meant it.”

And now things are awkward again.

Shit.

I scramble to fix it, to make amends. “Sorry. I’m just nervous. Humor is my go-to defense mechanism.”

“It’s okay.” He’s looking at me again, which I suppose means I’m forgiven. “How should we start?” A furtive glance at the bed.

I toy with the thick silver chain that serves as a belt for my skirt. “I’m not sure.” My nerves ramp up, making my heart thud painfully. “Undress? Kiss? Are we allowed to kiss? Are there rules? Is there anything you want to do? Don’t want to do? Should we talk about it? Plan it out? Or just go for it?” I’m babbling now. I know it, but I can’t seem to stop.

T shoots a look at the mirror. “Dr. Desire? Any input?”

The voice comes out of the speaker, deep and slightly distorted. “It’s up to you. There are no right or wrong answers. That’s an important lesson when it comes to sex.”

I release a deep breath and shake out my shoulders. “Let’s start by kissing,” I suggest. “Maybe that’ll get us in the mood.”

He faces me, his throat bobbing. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

We shuffle toward each other until we’re face to face. Too close. Not close enough. Hesitantly, T reaches out and frames my face with his hands. He has calloused fingers that ghost along my cheekbone. The contrast of rough against smooth sends a ripple down my spine.

Eyes searching, he asks a silent question, a request.

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