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Cannel seemed to deflate at my words.
“So you like this woman? Your partner?” She sounded sad now.
Which I didn’t like at all.
Not one single fucking bit.
I didn’t like seeing a frown on that beautiful face, and I definitely didn’t like seeing those lines along her forehead that showed how unhappy she was.
“I like her…” I waited. “But when she asked me on a date today, I turned her down.”
Cannel blinked.
“What? Why?” she asked, sounding a bit upset.
“Because I met someone else that I’d rather date instead,” I found myself saying.
Cannel’s eyes widened. “Who?”
Thinking, ‘fuck it,’ I said, “You.”
Her mouth fell open slightly.
“Really?” she rasped.
Her teeth came down to worry her bottom lip, and I all but groaned.
“Really,” I confirmed. “When I met you last week, I started to ask around about you. See if you were single. But nobody knows anything about you.” I paused. “It’s been really hard to find out any information about you.”
“And your partner.” She smirked. “What did she say when you told her that you wanted me?”
“I didn’t tell her that I wanted you,” I admitted. “That would just put you on her target. I’ll let her figure it out naturally.”
“Naturally?” she asked.
“Naturally,” I confirmed. “When you come meet me at the station after work so we can go grab something to eat.” I broke off. “Or when you and I are out, and she sees us eating.”
“That sounds a lot like dating,” she admitted. “I was thinking that we needed to just spend the night together.”
My dick, which was already hard at the sight of her, lengthened even more at her words.
“Why the rush?” I asked curiously.
She seemed to close down right in front of me.
Thinking to put her back at ease, and maybe work into the question at a different angle, I changed the subject.
“So why a nurse?” I asked.
She shrugged. “A nurse makes a guaranteed fifty thousand a year. It’s honestly pretty easy to find a job anywhere. And it was something easy that I could accomplish at home.”
I looked away from my drink to stare at her. “You did your degree at home?”
She nodded, taking another sip of her Long Island Iced Tea. “I did. The only thing I couldn’t do at home were the clinicals, and I got those taken care of in a week and a half in Boulder, Colorado.”
I reached forward and rested my foot on the back of her barstool, causing her stool to wobble slightly.
She reached out and steadied herself using my leg.
“You have the hardest body I’ve ever seen—and touched—in my life,” she mused, her hand resting right above my knee. “Why is that?”
I grinned. “I CrossFit. Haven’t I mentioned that at least a hundred times already?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. Were you supposed to?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know. It’s just mentioned a lot when you do it. I suppose I work it into conversations without actually realizing I do it.” I paused. “My partner thinks it’s annoying as fuck how much I talk about it.”
“Maybe she’s just annoying and doesn’t realize that you like talking about it because you like doing it.” She shrugged. “What’s so good about it?”
I hummed, thinking about that answer for a moment.
“Well...” I hesitated. “You wouldn’t think it’s awesome based on how sore I am all the time. Or how I want to quit at least two times a week because it’s so fucking hard.”
She blinked. “You’re really selling me on joining. Do keep going.”
I laughed and took a swig of the new beer that the bartender set down in front of me.
“Like this.” I jerked my head in the beer’s direction. “I’m going to drink this, and I’m going to regret every single fuckin’ second of it tomorrow when I’m working out before work.”
“Why?” she asked, tilting her head.
“I’m much more aware of what I put into my body now,” I admitted. “For instance, I can’t just look at a donut, then decide to eat it. I have to contemplate the positives and negatives.”
She scoffed. “Sure you can eat it. You just pick it up, bite into it, and enjoy.”
“Most would think that, yes,” I admitted. “But when you’re aware of your body… things like a donut aren’t that enjoyable anymore. For instance, one single glazed donut is almost my entire allotted sugar intake for the day.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Shut up. Is it?”
“And my favorite donut shop, a donut there will cost me four hundred calories. I could eat four bananas for that,” I continued.
Her eyes were wide as she said, “If I want a donut, I just eat it. You can’t go on living life any other way. You don’t know when it’ll be your last day to enjoy those simple things.”
Her eyes widened, and she snapped her mouth shut, almost as if what she’d said surprised her.
