Page 43 of Not My Mate

He looked startled. "The second one of course." He pulled his wrist carefully free from me. "Don't worry so much. We're getting along, aren't we?" His brows drew together and up, a confused expression that almost implored me to explain something.

"Yes," I gulped. "Yes, we're getting along. Charlie, do you trust me?"

"Of course. We work well together."

"When we're not working. Do you trust me?"

He swallowed visibly. "Sometimes. In what way?"

"Any way at all." I would accept his crumbs. I swallowed my hammering heart down again and spoke as quietly and calmly as I could, even though it made my voice shake a little. "Do you think you'd trust me to date you? Without the pressure of being mates, I mean."

He stared at me, his eyes growing slightly narrower. "What do you mean? Did you change your mind? You don't think that way now?" He looked confused, and I couldn't really blame him.

I swallowed down my panic. "No, I still think that way, but you don't. And I'd rather develop a relationship of some sort than not having one at all, but still having these feelings for you."

"Do you think you could be happy with dating, not all that serious stuff about mates?"

"Honestly, yes."

He'd been raised around humans, and for that reason and possibly another, he didn't believe in mates. But boyfriends was a good place to start. Even one single date where we didn't end up scrapping and squabbling would be a good place to start.

"You seem like you're happier lately," I added. "Like you're not so upset about Singh. So, maybe, if I'm in your good books, if I'm keeping my word about not going over the line and we're getting along better, you would consider dating me, to see if there's some compatibility, even if it's not the mates kind for you."

I looked at him humbly, waiting for his answer. At least he seemed to be considering it; he wasn't calling me an idiot right off the bat.

"We could give it a try," I added. "To see if there's something there."

"I don't think you'd be happy with being my boyfriend," said Charlie.

He was more thoughtful about it than I had expected, though, and that made my heart leap with hope. Like, he maybe wouldn't mind being my boyfriend, he just didn't think that would be enough for me. Could that be what he meant?

"Why, um—" I had to clear my throat. "Why would that be?"

He narrowed his eyes at me and poked me in the chest twice with his index finger. "Because I don't belong to anyone. You're the jealous, possessive type, and I'm not into that."

"No, no. I'm doing better, aren't I?" I implored. "I've learned my lesson, I promise."

"Have you?" He stared at me.

"Yes. Let's suppose I wasn't jealous and demanding. Why shouldn't we date?"

"Because—" He hesitated, worrying his lip, looking a little scared. "Because you want more than I can give."

"But I have nothing now. We're barely friends. We work together. I think if I can settle for that, I could settle for a little more. Anyway, why do you care if it's a good choice for me? Do you think it could be for you?"

"Dating, you mean, not being mates?"

I nodded. He looked thoughtful, and gave it some honest consideration.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I can't imagine what it would be like."

"But maybe that's a good reason to try."

"Maybe. Let me think about it. And let's make sure we're on the same page about what dating means, too."

"Okay. To me, it means hanging out, spending time together, going out to get meals or watch movies. It means I have your back if you're having a bad day. Maybe I give you a hug or a back rub. It means testing the waters of physical attraction — cuddling, kissing, maybe more. And it means caring about each other."

He gave me a long, considering look. "Thatmightbe okay. Might. I'm not good with demands, though. I don't want to follow someone else's timetable."