The Rules of Dating(74)
I shook my head with a smile. This was exactly what I needed right now—Holden’s crazy life. “I’ll bite. How exactly do you almost accidentally pierce your dick?”
Holden wagged his finger at me. “That’s a very good question. But before I explain, let me preface by saying that I sort of went on a tear after seeing Lala and Dr. Douchebag. I know now that I was trying to fill a void by spending too much time talking to women on Tinder, so I don’t need a lecture. Plus, I already got one from Owen when I told him this story. Anyway, I found this one woman who made it clear she was looking for a good time and nothing more. We met at a bar and had one drink, and then she suggested we take an Uber somewhere so she could go down on me in the backseat. She was into the driver watching through the rearview mirror as he drove.”
I shook my head. “Only you, my friend.”
“She was really cute, too. Redhead with a tatted arm—sort of a Billie vibe.” He winked. “Probably why I was into her.”
“Don’t even joke, buddy.”
He laughed. “Just teasing. Her name was Ryland, and she had one of those small, hoop nose rings. We get into the Uber, and she wastes no time dropping her head into my lap. After, I suggested we go back to her place, so I could return the favor—you know, because I’m a gentleman and all. But she tells me it’s that time of the month and suggests we meet up next week at a different bar. She wants me to go down on her in the ladies’ room while she’s sitting on the sink without the door locked.”
“Is she an exhibitionist or something?”
Holden shrugged. “I think so, but I’m game. Whatever floats your boat as long as no one gets hurt in the process, right? Anyway, we call it a night, and I take the train back to the bar where we’d met. It was a nice day, so I’d ridden my motorcycle and needed to pick it up. But when I hopped on, the damn battery was dead. I had to push seven-hundred pounds to a hill so I could roll it down an incline and jump on to bump start it. When I did that, I felt a sharp pinch at the base of my dick. It hurt like a motherfucker and wouldn’t let up. I actually had to turn the bike off and go back into the bar to use the men’s room to see what the hell was going on. Turns out, my redheaded exhibitionist lost her little hoop nose ring while blowing me. The thing was damn sharp, and it somehow wound up in my underwear. It had pierced the skin at the base of my dick. Hence, an almost accidental Prince Albert.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re a train wreck.” I laughed my ass off. “But thanks, man. I really needed that.”
“Anytime. I’m here for whatever I can give.”
***
The following morning, I still had no idea what I was going to do as I walked to the coffee shop to meet Maya. The sight of her as I opened the door physically repulsed me—my stomach lurched into my throat and I tasted bile. I hated that this woman had anything to do with my sweet, innocent daughter.
She smiled as I took the seat across from her. “I ordered you coffee and breakfast. If I recall correctly, you made me pancakes the morning after we spent the night together, so I figured that was a safe choice.”
If only eyes could actually shoot daggers. “I’m not hungry.”
Maya sighed and folded her hands on the table. “Fine. I was trying to be friendly. Why don’t we just cut to the chase then, shall we? Are we getting married or not?”
Fuck. I don’t want to make this decision.
Yet she sat with zero emotion on her face, waiting for an answer.
I couldn’t help myself. Leaning forward, I glared at her. “How the hell can you do this? Use your own child? Were you abused as a kid? Tortured? Neglected by your own parents so badly that you no longer have a basic respect for humanity? Molested? There’s got to be a fucking reason.”
She looked down at her watch like I was boring her. “Is that a yes or a no?”
Nothing I said or did knocked this woman off her game. She had a one-track mind, and that scared the living shit out of me. It meant she would stop at nothing to get what she needed, regardless of who got hurt. I closed my eyes and prayed for strength before opening them again.
“I want everything filed by my attorney, not yours. I don’t trust anyone associated with you. I’m only marrying you so you can stay in this country and will leave my daughter alone. After it’s done, don’t contact me. I’m pretending this sham of a marriage never happened.”
“Fine. What’s your attorney’s name?”
“Adam Altman,” I said through gritted teeth.
Maya reached to the back of her chair and dug into her purse, pulling out a cell phone. She typed for a minute and then looked up. “On Fifty-Third?”
I nodded.
She clicked around a few more times before lifting her cell to her ear. Her eyes never left my face as she spoke. “Hello, I’d like to make an appointment with Mr. Altman, please.”
She was quiet for a moment, then… “Yes, a rather urgent immigration issue. Would he have anything available right away? Tomorrow, perhaps? I know it’s a Saturday, but we really need to speak to someone as soon as possible.”
Quiet again. She covered the phone and leaned forward. “Tomorrow at three PM?”
“Fine.”
I vaguely paid attention as she spoke for the next few minutes, giving both our names and other information to make the appointment. When she hung up, she looked pleased with herself. “All set. I’ll meet you there.”