Page 73 of A Much Younger Man
“No worries. I ate. We can catch the lesson some other time.”
“I guess what I mean to say is, we didn’t get much of a chance to talk about what happened between us, and then the very next night, there was a man on my porch—”
“That wasn’t your fault. What’d you tell your mom?”
“I told her to knock it off with the matchmaking. I guess she didn’t know he’d drive down like that.”
“Guess not.” He glanced around and saw the mini fridge. “Do you have a water in there? I’m parched.”
I said he could take whatever he liked. He tore the cap off a bottled water and drank half down. The slim column of his throat worked, and he thumbed stray drops off his lips before he took another breath.
“Thank you. Was that all?” he asked.
“Well, I guess we should talk about…things, don’t you think?”
Confusion showed in his lifted brows. “What things?”
“Um, I guess we should start with the fact that I had a really good time with you the other night.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “Me too.”
“And while it was amazing, it’s not really something I do. Or rather, I have these pretty strict rules about how I do them.”
“Like, bondage rules? Safe, sane, and consensual? Should you have given me a safeword?” His expression showed only polite interest as he took another sip of his water. “Maybe I should have said. I use red.”
“No. That’s—” I raked my hand through my hair. “I don’t want you to think I just blew you off for another guy.”
“Whatever,” he said. “You didn’t know he was coming, and your mom sent him, so you couldn’t just tell him to leave.”
This was not going the way I expected it to at all.
I gathered my patience and tried again. “I want you to know that what you and I did was wonderful—”
“Oh, man. I was hoping this wasn’t going to turn into a thing.” Beck stared at his hands. “Because as nice as you are, I’m totally not the type to latch on after one good night. I mean, it’s nothing personal or anything.”
“Thank heavens,” I said through clenched teeth. “We’re on the same page then.”
Beck wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. “Phew.”
“But I still want you to know nothing happened between me and Dylan.”
“Oh, shoot. Wasn’t he into you? Was it the age thing? I thought he looked younger.”
“No, he was totally into me. I said no.”
“Wait. Travis and I saw his car this morning. Did he totally friend zone you and still stay the night? Brrr. That’s so cold.”
“It wasn’t actually like that.”
“It must have been so embarrassing getting turned down like that. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” Beck lip-zipped and threw away an imaginary key. I caught that twinkle in his eyes with a sigh. “I hope he at least liked my dinner. You owe me, by the way.”
“He’s vegan. He couldn’t eat any of it. If you want it, it’s still in the fridge.”
“I could eat,” he glanced at his phone. “What time?”
What just happened here?“I’ll be done here around three.”
“Great. I’ve got some dogs to walk—paying clients—but I’ll meet you at your place at four.” He stood. “I wrote out some new songs for you to practice. I figured the Beatles would be good. They’re from your generation, right?”
I sagged. “Thank you.”
“And don’t worry.” Beck held onto the doorjamb as he turned back. “You’ll get to an age where your mom gives up on trying to find you a man soon enough. Enjoy her meddling while it lasts.”
He left the room and closed the door quietly behind him.
I may have thrown a thick stack of Post-it notes at the place where his head had been.
