11. Birdie

Confession: I know way too much about sexually transmitted diseases.

His gaze on me heated, and he set his cup down on the counter. As he walked toward me, slow, purposeful, my heart pounded. If he couldn't hear the rush of blood, it would be a miracle.

He sensually ran his fingers over my arm and slipped his hand in mine, leading me toward the back of his apartment. My skin tingled as we walked, and nerves fired through my body, every cell on high alert.

Sex with Dax had never been earthshattering. And even though I'd read enough of Mara's romance novels to know my way around a metaphorical bedroom, I had no idea what would happen next.

Would I be bad in bed?

Did he have any STDs?

Oh god, what if I'd gotten an STD from Dax or his mistress? I hadn't noticed anything different down there, but now I was panicking, thinking I should make an appointment just in case.

But talking about that with Cohen wasn't sexy. How did one even bring that up? Um, hi, I think you're hot and want to bang you, but my ex cheated on me and I haven't been checked and I'd like to see the paperwork from your latest doctor visit, please?

This was a hot mess and oh my gosh we were getting closer to his bedroom.

I was supposed to be getting married to Dax this month! I was supposed to be a one-man woman for the rest of my life and here I was walking to a stranger's bedroom. What was wrong with me?

He opened the door to his bedroom, to the perfectly made bed and the glowing lamp and the abstract art canvas over the bed, and I nearly passed out.

"Are you okay?" he asked, examining me. "You're breathing hard."

"I—" I gasped for air, and my peripheral vision clouded. "I need to sit down."

Realization crossed his features, and he steered me to a chair by his bed, saying, "Sit. Put your head between your knees."

I leaned over my lap, spreading my legs to make room for my stomach, and tried to breathe. But with my face against the dress, all I could smell was the store and new fabric and dear god, had someone tried this dress on without underwear before I bought it?

"Birdie, Birdie," Cohen hummed, rubbing my back. "It's okay. We don't need to do anything if you don't want to."

Tears stung my eyes as I gasped for air. This was not how tonight was supposed to go. I was supposed to be sexy, a free woman making a fresh entrance to the world. I was mad at Dax. How could he have done this to me? Taken up the last two years of my life and then toss them away like they meant nothing?

Angry tears poured from my eyes onto my dress, and my shoulders shook with sobs. I was so not getting laid tonight.

Or ever if I acted like this every time I got close to a man.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I sat up and met Cohen's eyes. "I'm sorry. I thought I was ready for this, but I'm..."

"Not," he finished with a smile. "I'm not great at flings either. Maybe we should take it slow?"

My heart twisted at his patience. At his kindness. "Really? You don't have to. I'm a mess."

He smiled. "I'd love to take you on a date, get to know you without spilling beer on your dress."

"That sounds amazing." I bit my lip.

"But?"

I gestured at the tear stains on my new dress. "I'm clearly not ready to date."

"That's fine," he said. "I'll take you on a no-pressure not-date this week. Coffee or lunch—you do that with people you don't even like."

I mean, I ate lunch at the school every day, so he wasn't wrong.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked.

Oh crap. "I—my roommate is probably—" having hot wild sex with someone from the bar like I should have been "—occupied. Can I sleep on your couch?" It was that or going back to my apartment, and I was not doing that in this state.

"Of course," he said. "It's late anyway. I can sleep on the couch. It's not a big deal."

"You don't have to do that—I'd hate if you got a bad night's sleep because of me."

"One night won't kill me," he said. "But there is a movie on Netflix I've been wanting to watch... Maybe we could watch it in here together?"

I looked over at his bed. It was a king. "I'll stay on one side? I won't even roll over or anything."

He chuckled. "You have yourself a deal. Do you want an extra shirt to sleep in?"

"I can use the one from the bar." I put my hands on my knees to push myself up. "I'll go change. Again."

"I'll be here," he said, picking up the remote from his nightstand.

I made my way to the bathroom, kicking myself the entire way. Why couldn't I have just rebounded with the hot guy? Now he probably thought I was a spaz and was just ready to have me out of his house. Why was he being so nice to me?

With the bathroom door closed behind me, I got my phone out of the purse I'd left in there and sent Mara a text.

Birdie: You would be so ashamed of me.

Birdie: But enjoy your sexcapade. I'll just be here, NOT having sex. See you in the morning at Waldo's Diner. Bring my bag. We're going to need some breakfast before I can face work again.

I set my phone down and changed back into the 4XL shirt. I wished I had some shorts to wear or even underwear that covered more, because I knew the shirt would slip up as I slept, but I was a light sleeper. The second Cohen woke up, I could pull it down to cover more.

I picked up my purse and my new dress and carried them with me to his bedroom. Cohen had changed out of the jeans and button-down shirt he'd been wearing and now had on a pair of joggers and a thin white T-shirt that showed the muscles of his chest and shoulders. He lay back on the bed looking like sex on a... well, on a mattress.

Could I take back the whole taking-it-slow thing? This man radiated sex. But here I was, watching a movie with him like some PG-13 teeny-bopper heroine. I could only imagine what Mara would say tomorrow at breakfast before school.