No matter which direction I turn, all roads lead to her.
“I don’t know,” she mumbles, her brows furrowing when she lets out an audible ‘damn it’. “Seems to me I don’t know much of anything anymore. What I want or where I’ll end up.”
I struggle to not answer her. Because where I want her to end up is in my bed, bouncing on my cock until she’s left with an imprint so deep no one can fill it except me.
Her phone pings, and she grabs it like a lifeline to escape this conversation. As she swivels to the side for privacy, I catch a glimpse of the yellow notification bar which reveals the dating app she’s using. My insides twist uncomfortably and I have the urge to break something.
“Are you serious about that?” I point at her phone.
She picks her words judiciously. “I need experience. If not you, thensomeone.I don’t want to repeat the mistakes I made in my marriage. I want to go on casual dates and figure out what I do and don’t like. I can’t do that sitting at home. Now is my only chance to. . . try.“ Her lips firm in a straight line, her expression serious. “When I go back to India, I’ll be surrounded by well-wishers mourning the failure of my marriage, wondering which poor man will do my parents the favor of taking me off their hands.”
“Why go back at all?”
“I have no reason to stay.”
And there it is. She has no reason to stay. And I have no reason to think I can give her reasons to stay.
“I won’t ask you to kiss me again.”
Her words wrap around my lungs and squeeze until I physically ache.
“I realize what I’m trying to do seems foolish to you,” she adds, oblivious to my turmoil. “If Rohan finds out, he’ll think I’ve gone crazy. Maybe I have. Please forget this conversation.”
“I don’t think I will.”
“Callum.”
I shove one hand in my pocket, the other spearing my hair as I roughly massage my scalp to soothe my own frustration.
“You should do whatever you want to do, irrespective of whether that makes Moore or anyone else uncomfortable,” I say. “It’syourlife.”
“Really?” She watches me skeptically, not sure if I’m truly agreeing with her.
“People hook up all the time, Tots. Why shouldn’t you?”
Worry and interest clash in her eyes as she considers my statement. “But if Rohan finds out. . .”
“He won’t. No one will. We won’t tell them.”
“I’ve had no luck with ChatTrick, though.”
My insides react so violently to that suggestion, it’s a wonder I don’t upchuck the contents of my stomach right then. Guilelessly, she waits for my response and I’m hit with the realization that Alia has no clue what she does to me.
“It’s not going to be someone from an app.”
“Then—?”
“Me,” I exasperatedly declare, jabbing a thumb into my chest. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, I’ve never felt so desperate to be seen.
“But Rohan?”
I shrug. The situation isn’t ideal and I’m aware what I’m about to do is selfish. But Alia with another man will drive me to an early grave. Or jail.
I desperately need my crush to run its course so I can go back to focusing on hockey without feeling like I’m missing out on something important. More than that, watching her struggle with feeling like she isn’t enough hits uncomfortably close to how I feel about my personal life. If exploring this madness with her is how we bring at least one of us peace, then I concede. The only way this doesn’t happen is if she doesn’t want it to.
“Do you want to attempt those experiences?” I ask, clarifying immediately, “With me?”
“Yes.” She swallows hard and nods, like she’s making a commitment to us. “I do.”