Page 36 of Bad Call

“I liked it fine. I mean, how do I know if you were good or not? I’ve got nothing to compare it to.”

Some of my panic began to subside. “Well, my first couple of times sucked,” I admitted.

“Really?” Baylor’s face softened, looking less defensive. “So why did you continue?”

“Because I’m only attracted to men. What was I going to do, swear off sex for life? Not an option. I just knew that I had to figure out how to make it enjoyable, and I did.”

He bit his bottom lip, which I found incredibly sexy. “I don’t think that was my problem. I enjoyed it fine. You can put your ego to rest.”

It certainly helped knowing that. “So what was the problem?”

“Why can’t you let it go? Jesus Christ, you’re like a dog with a bone. I’m gonna start calling you Rawlings.”

We passed two exits in silence. “Baylor.” Thenanother. The tension was mounting faster than my earlier irritation. “Baylor!”

“You fucked with my head!” The words sounded like they were ripped from his mouth.

“I what?”

“You fucked me up.”

“How?”

He looked away again as he admitted, “Because you left. You didn’t…”

Oh, come-the-fuck on! “Because I didn’t stay over and didn’t call you the next day? Are you fucking serious? With as many women as you’ve fucked, how many did you fuck over? You know the rules of the game. We met in a bar. We fucked in a motel. Did you really think I was going to call you back?” I swallowed down my anger. “Besides, I couldn’t stay. I had to get home to Rawlings and let her out.”

Baylor shook his head. “You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get? That you’re acting like an immature, lovelorn stalker?”

“No.” He remained quiet, and I could feel my blood pressure rising again.

“Talk to me!”

“I can’t!” he shouted, sounding equally frustrated.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s hard for me to admit.”

I glanced over and saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard. He must really be struggling with this. I took a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“You’re what?”

“I’m sorry,” I grated, hating that he made me repeat myself. “Ever since we met—the second time,” I clarified. “Things have not gone well between us, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to spill your guts. But I promise to listen and be objective.”

“You promise not to be an asshole?”

“Yeah,” I said a little too heatedly. “Yes. I promise not to be an asshole.”

“Fine.” He reached into the backseat without bumping into me and grabbed the cookies. “When I was with women, it was different. At least, it was for me. I was the dominant in charge, I set the rules and the pace. I made it very clear there would be no second or third dates.” He bit into his cookie, crunching loudly. “Like you said, the women knew the rules of the game, and they seemed fine with it. I never gave it a second thought until…”

“Until?”

“Until it was me in their shoes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I sputtered, dying to hear the rest.