Page 167 of The Single Dads Club
“What day is it, motherfucker?” Trent’s voice was louder now, closer, and despite my better judgment I cracked an eyelid open to find him standing over me, his normally dark expression even darker than usual.
“Leave me alone,” I croaked.
“Nope.” He shoved my feet off the end of the sofa to take a seat on the buttery white leather. “It’s Sunday. And you want to know what happened? I was just fucking humiliated out there.”
“Shit. Sorry about that.” I turned, pulling my feet up onto the ottoman, then yanked my blanket a little closer to my chin.
“You are not,” Trent muttered. “You know Sunday is rugby in the park. How the hell are we supposed to win a game without our star player? Today was Medical versus Surgical, you piece of shit. You think the surgeons are going to let us live this down? Ever?”
I winced, knowing he was right. Fucking surgeons, cocky pricks. Fact was, they shouldn’t even have been playing rugby considering how precious they were about their delicate hands, but that didn’t seem to stop them.
“Look,” I said, feeling slightly bad for the first time since he’d basically broken into my place, “I’m kind of going through something right now. It’s an emergency and—”
“Not being able to find the contact info for your one-night stand does not constitute an emergency, no matter how many times you try to frame it that way, Mason.”
“One man’s burden is another man’s gift. Tomato, tomahto. No crying over spilled milk.” I ran out of bad, inapplicable sayings and straightened up on the couch. Trent snagged the remote from my hand and muted the episode ofTreehouse MastersI’d been watching.
“Still no luck, huh?” Trent asked, a little less harshly this time—though still not by much.
“Nope,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I checked every dating site I could think of. She wasn’t on any of them. I even looked on Tinder. Nothing. In fact, no one with the name Bren at all.”
“Hey, here’s an idea.” His lips twisted into something resembling an encouraging smile. “Just go on a date with someone from Tinder and forget about it. It’s been a week, dude. Let it go.” Trent crossed his arms over his chest, and I reached for the bowl of lukewarm soup in front of me.
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“That you discovered the holy grail of pussy? The pussy to rule them all? The fucking one pussy that obliterates all the rest of the pussy?” Trent snorted. “Igetit, I just don’t buy it.” He shoved a hand through his thick, dark hair. “There are plenty of girls out there. I could even set you up with one of Kayla’s sisters if you would just—”
“No, I’mgoingto find this girl.” I clenched my fists, then blew out a ragged sigh. “It’s just going to take a little more work than I expected.”
I already knew I was spinning my wheels in vain trying to explainherto a guy like Trent. For him, every woman he dated was the same—a chance to get laid and, if he was lucky, have a good time before, during, and for a little while after. Maybe.
For me? It wasn’t so easy.
Don’t get me wrong. I could have just about any woman I wanted. That wasn’t a cocky thing, either. It was just…well, the truth. Ever since I’d been old enough to know how sex worked, I’d been able to find willing partners, but for me relationships were about more than just a quick roll in the hay. Becoming a doctor hadn’t hurt the situation, and loving women on the whole didn’t hurt me any either.
And still, I wanted somethingmore. Now that I was getting older…
Well, thatsomething moreseemed to be getting more and more important all the time. This girl had blown my fucking mind in the best possible way. She’d been gorgeous, of course. But she’d been funny, and smart, and unexpected. I’d gone to sleep totally satisfied and stoked to tell her exactly that in the morning, only to find she’d ghosted.
Gone, without a word or a note, even.
Trent slapped his knees and pushed himself from the couch before making his way to my fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. He twisted the cap off, took a slug, then eyed me over the bottle. “Okay, fine. I give. What’s so special about this one, besides the steel trap of a pussy, that is?”
I cocked my head. “That’s the thing. I can’t put my finger on it. I mean, the sex was…”
There were no words for the sex.
From the moment I’d first kissed her, I’d been completely absorbed, lit with the need for more—to touch her, smell her, and breathe her in. It was more than chemistry—it was sheer animal connection, and I knew, even from that first, innocent kiss, that she could feel it too. Our connection was unlike anything I’d ever felt.
“It couldn’t have been that good if she snuck out of here while you were still asleep. You’d think she’d want round two, right?” Trent shrugged. “Face it, maybe she’s just not that into you.”
“See, this is what you’re not getting. Shewasinto me. She was perfect.” I shook my head.
Of course, I didn’t blame Trent for not understanding. Odds were that he’d never been with a woman who looked at him the way Bren had looked at me on our date—like every word I said mattered to her. LikeImattered to her. In a way, it reminded me of the way my mother spoke to and looked at my father—like nothing in the world was more important than that other person.
And that connection had been only the starting point. It stretched even further when I’d kissed her, like the push and pull between our bodies was one we’d done a million times before but was still exciting and new. She’d shivered when I touched her, and when I turned her around to unzip her dress…
“Exactly. She was perfect. That’s why she wasn’t interested in you.” Trent grinned and I chucked a pillow at his stupid face.
