Page 14

Chapter 14

Bad Kisser

Dell

“ T wo medium cold brews for Dell,” the barista calls, and I give them a nod before thanking them and heading into work down the block. I’m hoping this coffee brings back some sense of normalcy between Robyn and me this Monday morning. Something to root me back into what we were before our “dating lesson” Saturday night. Before I fucked it up with my selfishness.

What the hell came over me? It was my idea to help her in the first place. She should be able to trust me, as both her friend and personal trainer, not to cross any boundaries. But there I was, watching her lick dessert off a spoon mere inches away from me as my heart punched its way out of my chest. I need to get a grip on this ridiculous crush I have on her.

But as soon as she walks into my studio gym, looking like her usual barely-awake self, my hindbrain kicks in.

She’s so gorgeous. I wonder what she looks like when she wakes up in bed— no. Bad. Bad Dell. Look alive.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I smile, offering her coffee.

She grunts, and it’s like music to my ears. I love that this normally chipper and vibrant woman cannot handle mornings. She kind of reminds me of Isaiah in that regard.

See, I remind myself. They’re perfect for each other. Get the fuck out of their way.

Her cold brew is drained in seconds, and we start our session. It’s ten more minutes before Robyn’s responses turn into actual words. I’m grateful for the normalcy, but there’s a niggling question I want to ask, and I can’t tell if it would be unprofessional or not. Do I address our date night? Or can I play this off as a friendly question? Is it immature to not talk about what happened?

Goddammit, I’m thirty-three years old and a business owner—why am I spinning with uncertainty? I should call my gram; she would know what to do.

Through our whole session, I war with myself while encouraging and pushing her. But there’s something she’s keeping close to her chest, I just know it. I can feel it. Maybe I’m projecting.

“Good job today,” I say as she dramatically drops to the floor before stretching.

“Thanks,” she exhales. “Can you stretch me?”

“Of course.” She lays on her back, and I bend her right leg until it’s nearly to her armpit. I’m on my knees, leaning my body weight against her.

It’s impossible not to look her right in the eyes when we’re positioned like this—not to take myself out of the mindset of a personal trainer helping his client and just see a man atop a woman as she spreads her legs for him.

But there it is again—in her eyes. There’s something she needs to get off her chest.

“How do you feel about what happened Saturday night?” I blurt.

Robyn takes a deep breath, and we switch legs. “Everything was just… so unexpected.”

Is she talking about me? Could she feel that connection too? Jesus H. Christ, someone give me a blinking neon sign inside my brain that reads NO MORE DATING CLIENTS .

“Between you—I mean,” she stutters, her eyes wide. “What I learned from you, that is. And seeing Isaiah and that… that guy I was dancing with,” she groans, pushing her palms into her eyes. “All of it. I didn’t want to kiss him. ”

“Yeah, that was painfully obvious. I’m glad you pushed him away before that happened. I was on my way to pull him off before Isaiah did.” I bring her leg back down, and then both come up, her legs spread wide as I lean against them.

She huffs a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, two more seconds and he would have discovered how bad I am at kissing and pulled back.”

Record scratch.

“I’m sorry, what? You’re bad at…kissing?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make a thing of it.”

My eyes narrow on her. “You’re twenty-eight years old, Robyn. There’s no way you’re bad at kissing.”

“Then explain that to all the guys I’ve hooked up with.”

Every thought I had until this moment vanishes, and it takes significant effort to temper my growl. “What. Happened?”

“Calm down. It wasn’t any one thing in particular. It just happened enough that I caught on to it.” Without breaking eye contact, I bring her legs back down, and she sits up with crossed legs. “Guys just,” she hesitates, her head turned down as her fingertips play with the end of her shoelace. “They never want to kiss me for long, or at all. They just wanna fuck and dip out.” The way her voice shrank while saying that nearly stops me dead in my tracks.

“What kind of jerks are you pulling, Robyn? Fuck.”

She groans. “I know. I don’t have the best track record. But c’mon,” she sighs, finally looking at me again. “If they’re all like that, it stands to reason I’m bad at kissing.”

That blinking neon sign must be down for maintenance because the next thing I say is the wrong thing. “Kiss me.”

“What?” she shrieks.

“You heard me. I wanna know.”

“Dell! I will not subject you to that.”

“Robyn,” I say firmly. “Think of this as part of the flirt coach package. If you’re not confident in the way you kiss, then I’m going to make sure you are.”

“You’re out of your mind,” she huffs.

“Not at all. I’m a dedicated personal trainer and flirt coach. Now kiss me.”

Her eyes flick to my mouth and her chest begins to rise and fall in a different way than when she was working out. She’s nervous to pull the trigger, so I sweeten the pot even though it kills me to do so. “Pretend I’m him. Kiss me the way you want to kiss Isaiah.” Her breath catches as her gaze floats back up to mine. That’s when I lean in a hair’s breadth away, her eyes closing, and I whisper, “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” she says softly before I skim her full lips with mine.

Our first real kiss is chaste, but it ignites my body in flames. It’s tender and demure. But then, she opens her mouth a little more and invites me in. When I slip my tongue against hers, I’m suddenly very aware that I’m on all fours and she’s cross-legged. Not the ideal kissing position, if you ask me.

I need my hands.

Without a word, I brace my core and grab onto her waist. Her hands immediately come around my neck as she lets out a little squeak when I pull her forward, and I sit back. The way she’s straddling my legs has her higher than me, but I have better access. My hands find their place on the back of her head and waist as our kiss becomes frantic and scorching.

She tastes like minty toothpaste and the morning coffee I brought her.

She kisses the way I knew she would from the moment I saw her on the sidewalk four years ago. She kisses like the woman who is unknowingly going to break my heart.

I’m going to savor this and burn it into my memory because it’s all I’m ever going to get.

Our lips push and pull against each other as her fingers dig into my pulled-back bun and she grips it. Shivers race down my spine and my cock jolts. But right when her tongue dives back in to dance with mine, her hips give a slow little thrust that has me very aware of my growing erection. All at once, I’m bolting away and standing up to turn and tuck myself back in as discreetly as possible.

I clear my throat before turning back around and offering her a hand to stand up. “You’re uhh… you’re a very good kisser.” I stammer like a fool, barely able to make eye contact. “No notes.”

Her brows pinch. “Are you sure?”

Grabbing a medicine ball next to me, I place it in front of my crotch. “Do not change a thing,” I say before coughing and nodding toward the door. “Off you go. Great session today.”

“Are you okay?”

“Super duper!” I say, making myself cringe. “I’ll see you soon!”

“Okay,” she drawls and too slowly walks to the door. Before she leaves, she turns around. “You’re sure I’m not a bad kisser? Because you’re kind of…acting strange.”

“You’re a very good kisser,” I practically scream. “Please take my word for it! Nothing is wrong with you, and everything is wrong with those other guys, okay?”

Finally, a small smile creeps across her face. “Okay.” Mercifully, she leaves before I book it to my office to calm my boner before my next client arrives.

My next client! If I want to keep my clientele, then I need to stop acting unprofessionally. I’ve been so good at keeping my dick in my pants for the last three years. My reputation is slowly getting back to where I want it.

But damn it all to hell, deep down, I’d kiss her again if I had the chance.

As I reach my office, my phone buzzes. It’s an incoming call from my older sister Brook. Oooh, yes, the Boner Killer 2000 .

“Good morning,” I say, sitting down in my chair. Like me, Brook is a morning person. At this hour, she has likely already gone on a five-mile run, showered, and made breakfast for her husband, Steven, and their five-year-old son, Liam.

She’s Type A to a T. Even when we’re on vacation, she’s the one organizing everything. I think it’s calming to her. Everything in her life is scheduled and planned. She even has allowances for chaos—no joke. I think that’s why she’s such a good mom.

“Good morning, Dill Weed,” she chirps in her southern accent. I purposefully lost my accent when I left Kentucky. “I know you got a client in three minutes, so I’ll keep this brief.” See, she even knows my schedule. “I need a headcount for Gram’s ninetieth birthday party. You’re coming, right?”

“Of course. Remind me when that is again,” I wince.

She groans. “It’s next month at Castle Gardens. I need to make sure I get the right ballroom.” When a chuckle escapes me, she balks. “Don’t mock me!”

“You are literally the General Manager and run that venue. You can make anything happen, and you’re worried about headcount at this point?”

“Don’t get in the way of my planning,” she hisses. “Gram deserves a flawless birthday party.”

“I’m not saying she doesn’t. Put your quad espresso down, Jitterbug. I’ll be there.”

“No plus one?”

Inwardly groaning, I lean back in my chair and toss my head. “Have I ever?”

“Why did you pause?” I can practically see her eyes narrowing.

I sigh.

“Dell, tell me what’s going on. ”

“There’s this woman…and this man…”

“Dell!”

“I know. They’re both clients of mine.” Brook lets loose a giggle that has me cocking an eyebrow. “What? I’m in peril, and you’re laughing at me?”

“You’re so fucked.”

I think about the way my kiss with Robyn electrified my body and the way I feel when Isaiah so rarely smiles for me, and I close my eyes. “I know.”