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“Wow,” Charlotte said.
Mike smiled, pleased with her reaction. “You liked Jules Verne books when we were little, so I figured you might appreciate a steampunk bar.”
“It’s called Nautilus after the submarine in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea?”
“I think that’s the reason for the name, yes.”
“It’s been so long since I’ve read those books. But I do read steampunk, among other things.”
She stood on her toes in the middle of the hot-air balloon room and kissed him. On the cheek, but still. It was damn nice to have her lips on his skin, her body pressed against his in the small room.
“Brad never took me anywhere like this,” she said, and he felt a stupid amount of pride.
“I don’t know what he was thinking.” Mike shook his head. “Third date, steampunk bar. Everybody knows this.”
She laughed as she turned her attention to the dozens of small hot air balloons hanging from the ceiling. There was a mural on the wall, depicting a man in the basket of a hot air balloon.
“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this place,” Charlotte said. “My friends live in the Annex, just a ten-minute walk from here.”
The bar was in a sprawling—well, what would be considered sprawling in downtown Toronto—Victorian house just off Bloor. There were lots of rooms, each slightly different.
The next room had a large blimp suspended from the ceiling. Ropes hanging from the blimp were attached to a basket, which was a cozy seating area for two people. A man and a woman were currently occupying it, much to Mike’s disappointment. He’d very much like to sit there with Charlotte, their knees bumping together.
Her gaze, however, was on the bar, which had an intricate design of interlocking gears.
Or perhaps she was looking at the mustached bartender, who was wearing a collared shirt, tie, waistcoat, cape, and top hat with gears on it.
“Tonight’s lesson,” Mike murmured to Charlotte. “Don’t check out other men when you’re on a date.”
She graced him with a scowl. “I was not checking him out.”
“No? Then what were you doing?”
“Trying to figure out how you’d look in that outfit.”
“Oh, really. Do you think I could pull it off?”
She studied him for a moment that seemed to stretch on and on. He could look nowhere but at Charlotte, though he heard clanks and hisses in the background, as well as soft conversation from other patrons.
Mike struck a pose under Charlotte’s watchful eye and pretended to twirl his non-existent mustache, then checked his imaginary pocket watch.
“Tsk, tsk, you’re taking a long time to answer,” he said.
Charlotte glared but continued to study him. “I think you could do it, though I’m not sure the cape is your style.”
“But the top hat and everything else are my style?”
She shrugged. “It would be kind of hot, actually.”
“Charlotte Tam, are you blushing?”
“Shut your mouth.” She led him to another room. “Or this kraken will attack you.”
The next room was, indeed, dominated by a large metal kraken, attacking a wooden ship—this, too, was a small seating area, and it was also currently occupied. There were high-top tables scattered throughout the room. Most people were dressed in normal clothes, but one woman was wearing what looked like a steampunk adventurer’s costume.
“Do you want to grab a table?” Mike asked.
“No,” Charlotte said, “I want to see the rest of this place.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the next room. This one was less exciting than the others, but it had heavy velvet drapes, pulled back and tied with gold rope, revealing what was supposed to be the view out a window—except it was a mural, showing an exciting world with airships.
Mike was admiring the skill of the artist, but then Charlotte pulled him up the narrow, creaky staircase, and he’d follow her wherever she went.
And he loved seeing her flushed and excited about something. It was rare.
The first room upstairs was a sort of science lab, with two “scientists” behind the bar. One man and one woman, busy mixing drinks.
“Would I look good in one of those outfits?” Mike whispered to Charlotte. “Do those goggles turn you on?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
He was pretty sure she meant that affectionately.
And, miracle of miracles, she was still holding his hand.
A waitress walked by, wearing a brown corset and a long black skirt. A hat was precariously tilted on her head.
“Would you wear that?” he asked, leaning down to whisper in Charlotte’s ear. “I think you’d look hot in a corset.”
And nothing else.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She dropped his hand and trailed her fingers up his arm. He hissed out a breath.
And then she stepped away from him.
“Mike,” she said, “what are we doing?”
“We’re flirting. Practice, you know. For your dates.”
“But you didn’t tell me we were practice flirting. It seemed natural.”
“You tend to overthink things. I figured it was better not to tell you what I was doing.”
He was talking out of his ass, of course.
Practice? Ha.
He simply wanted to flirt with her.
“It’s easy with you.” Charlotte sounded puzzled. “Flirting, I mean. Is flirting always this easy, and I’ve been overthinking it all these years?”
He didn’t know how to answer that.
Just then, there was a very loud crash in the background music, and Charlotte jumped toward him and gripped his shoulder.
“What the fuck,” she murmured. “They should warn people about that.”
Unlike the clanking-and-hissing soundtrack downstairs, the ominous music upstairs made Mike feel like he was in a movie.
He bowed over her hand. “Lady Charlotte, will you do me the honor of this dance?” he asked, knowing full well she’d be outraged by the idea.
“In your dreams, pal,” she said. “And this isn’t dance music. It’s the-kraken-is-about-to-attack music.”
He stepped back and forth, swaying his hips as he snapped his fingers. “Anything is dance music if you feel like it.”
“I do not feel like it.”
“It could be good practice for a date.”
She considered this for a split second before saying, “If he expects me to go dancing with him, he can fuck right off.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Good to know, good to know.” Mike kept dancing. A few people were looking at him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t mind making a slight fool of himself, especially when Charlotte’s lips were twitching. “I guess I’ll have to pull out all my moves to convince you.”
He started doing the Macarena, which had been popular during their childhood, much to Charlotte’s distress.
That got the biggest laugh out of her yet, so it was totally worth it.
He was about to suggest they move to the next room, but then fog starting emanating from a machine in the corner, and when would he ever get to do the Macarena in the fog again, while the-kraken-is-about-to-attack music played in the background?
“You’re a nut,” Charlotte whispered, laughing.
He took a bow. A couple women clapped.
They headed to another room, which was filled with more gears on the walls than Mike had ever seen in his life before.
“I wonder what’s in here,” Charlotte said, pushing aside a curtain.
As soon as he saw, he swallowed hard.
There were lots more gears on the walls, but right behind the curtain was a sofa of sorts. He thought this was called a chaise longue, but he wasn’t sure.
“Excellent,” she said. “Nice and private.”
Yep, he could think of a whole bunch of things he’d like to do with Charlotte here, but that probably wasn’t what she had on her mind. She tended to seek out solitude when she was in a busy place, that was all.
But then she said, “It’s the perfect place for our kissing lessons.”
“Kissing lessons?” he sputtered.
* * *
“I haven’t kissed a guy in five years,” Charlotte said. “I’m woefully out of practice.”
Mike was staring at her, uncharacteristically silent.
“Isn’t the third date when things often get physical?” she continued. “I can’t remember whether that’s kissing or sex, though. I read all sorts of advice columns this week, and now I’m terribly confused. But I think kissing...”
Oh, God, she was babbling. Charlotte never babbled.
And Mike still wasn’t speaking.
“Of course,” she said, “if you’re not comfortable with kissing lessons, we don’t have to, but I’d appreciate the help.”
This room wasn’t big enough to contain all the tension.
“Yeah, sure, we can kiss,” he said at last, sounding all casual.
She was more excited about these lessons than she ought to be.
“Do you have any tips for me?” she asked.
He scratched the back of his head. “It’s hard to give tips for kissing, especially when...”
Especially when what? The thought that maybe he didn’t actually have much kissing experience popped into her head, but she pushed it aside.
“Don’t go overboard on using your tongue,” he said at last.
She nodded. This much she knew. Before Brad, she’d briefly dated someone who’d used too much tongue when they kissed, and it had seemed like he was trying to do tongue acrobatics.
It was good to be reminded of such things so she didn’t do them herself.
“What else?” she asked.
“Just find the right moment,” he said. “And live in the moment. Don’t think about when you’ll get your next cup of coffee—”
“Hey! I’d never think of that during a kiss. But ‘live in the moment’? That’s cheesy.”
He shrugged. “Like I said, it’s difficult to give kissing advice. A lot of it is the timing, the person.”
Yeah, that was likely true.
Still, Charlotte wanted practice with someone she wasn’t actually dating. It wouldn’t be the perfect kiss, but it would get her used to the idea of kissing someone again and...
Whoa. Mike was leaning toward her. Were his eyes always that dark, dark liquid brown? He lifted his hand, and his fingertips grazed her skin before he settled them on her cheek.
She actually moaned.
It had been a long time since she’d been touched like this, that was all, and Mike knew what he was doing.
He leaned closer, and she started breathing quickly in anticipation.
He brushed his lips, ever so lightly, over hers, and when she cupped the back of his neck, he kissed the corner of her lips, then down her jaw, to a very sensitive place at the top of her neck—how did he knew about this spot? She hadn’t even known.
“Mike,” she breathed.
His lips were on hers now, coaxing them open. In her shock, it took her a moment to respond.
But then, it was the most natural thing in the world. The play of her lips against his. Sliding her hand under the hem of his shirt so she could touch warm skin. He placed one hand on her lower back and brought her closer as he swept his tongue into her mouth.
He muttered something under his breath, and she was about to ask if he was okay, but then he sat down and pulled her into his lap. She cupped both of his cheeks in her hands and kissed him eagerly, wanting to taste as much of him as she could. More, more, more.
God, it felt good. Why had it been so long since she’d kissed someone?
Her skin prickled everywhere, and she clenched her thighs and...
Oh.
His erection.
She wanted to take off her jeans, and not simply because she hated wearing proper pants, but because she wanted to be closer to Mike. She pictured him on top of her, sliding into her.
He growled in the back of his throat, and it was thrilling.
“Charlotte,” he murmured, kissing her jaw.
Then he lifted her off him, and she nearly sobbed at the loss of contact.
In the distance, there was ominous music, and she recalled that they were in a steampunk bar. They hadn’t even had a drink yet. They were behind a curtain, where a lot of people had probably made out over the years.
Including her.
“Sorry, I got carried away,” he said, not meeting her eyes.
“Don’t be sorry. I liked it.”
As she watched his smile grow, her heart was thump, thump, thumping in her chest.
“I didn’t know a kiss could be like that,” she surprised herself by saying. “You’re certainly good. You must have had lots of practice.”
“Practice kiss,” he muttered. “Right.”
He was behaving oddly.
Clearly, she hadn’t dated guys who were very good at kissing. It was exciting to know it could be different from her past experiences. What would her first real kiss in five years be like?
“Are all of your kisses like this?” she asked.
She expected a slightly cocky yeah in response.
“No,” he said softly, and something skittered through her body.
Huh. Maybe she was unusually good at this kissing business.
Then his expression changed, as if their instructional kiss hadn’t happened.
“Shall we get a drink?” he asked, smiling.
How could he smile like that now? As though he hadn’t just suggested that kisses with her were special?
And he’d brought her to this unique bar because he thought she’d love it. If this was what dating someone who actually understood her was like, she wanted more.
But then he said, “I have some homework for you.”
Homework?
He curled his hand around her waist. “I want you to kiss me again—”
She immediately put her lips to his.
He stood up and laughed. “Not now. Sometime later tonight, when the moment is right.”
Well, she was definitely looking forward to this homework.
* * *
The problem was that Charlotte didn’t want to do her homework just once.
After their initial practice kiss, they went to the science lab bar, and she got a kraken martini. The stem of the glass was a tentacle. The martini was quite dry, and she approved.
Mike got some kind of fruity cocktail, and for some reason, she wanted to taste it on his lips. When they were standing outside on one of the house’s many balconies, she leaned in and kissed him and nearly lost her grip on her tentacle martini glass.
It had only been ten minutes, but she’d forgotten just how amazing it felt.
They stayed on the balcony, sipping their cocktails, for a few minutes. It was a small balcony with no seating, and no room for anyone but them.
After she’d finished her drink, she looked at her watch. It was almost nine, and it had been far too long since she’d had coffee.
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth—not in a sexy way this time.
“What’s up?” Mike asked.
“I want coffee.”
“I thought you might.”
He led her inside and up another flight of stairs. The ceiling was low, the roof sloping, and the third floor looked a bit like what she imagined a Victorian tea salon would be like. It was brighter than the rest of the bar, and there was an intricate steampunk-themed coffee machine on the counter.
She couldn’t help it: she kissed Mike again, even though there were other people in the room who could witness their kiss.
Weirdly, she didn’t care.
In addition to tea sandwiches, scones, pots of tea, and cups of coffee, the little café also served boozy coffee and tea cocktails.
Coffee and alcohol together? Sounded good to Charlotte.
After they finished their beverages, they returned to the second floor. The fog machine was working its magic in the science lab, and didn’t every woman dream of being kissed in the fog?
She kissed Mike once more, feeling brave enough to use tongue this time, but she was careful not to overdo it, remembering his advice.
But then his advice flew out of her mind, and she just kept kissing him.
Down on the first floor, the seats in the blimp basket were empty, and Mike suggested they claim it before anyone else did. She sat down and watched as he went up to the bar and ordered drinks from the man in the top hat.
She bet the bartender wasn’t as good of a kisser as Mike. She hadn’t known how Mike could kiss when they’d been down here earlier, but now she did, and she was a changed woman.
He came back with their drinks and they sat side by side, his thigh pressing against hers. She gave him another kiss, because how often would she get to kiss someone in the basket of a blimp?
At the end of the night, he walked her home from High Park subway station. And at the entrance to her building, she kissed him again.
She wound her arms around his neck, and he put his hands on her waist, and they kissed in the light of the entryway. Although she’d kissed him quite a bit tonight, it definitely wasn’t getting old, and her body hadn’t stopped responding. He held her against him as though he wanted her as close as possible. Yes, he sure knew how to make a woman feel wanted.
She stepped back as the reality of their situation washed over her. They were practice dating and practice kissing, yet for much of the evening, it had felt real.
“How did I do on my homework?” she asked.
Because that’s what those kisses had been. Homework.
“A-plus,” he said without hesitation. “You went above and beyond.”
“That’s good to hear. I always aim for perfection.”
He treated her to a lopsided smile before walking away.
She couldn’t manage to open the door to the building. She just stood there, stunned by the events of the evening.
What if she dated Mike? Actually dated him, not as any kind of lesson.
The fact that tonight had been so good...perhaps it meant something, other than that he understood her and was a skilled kisser.
Nah, this was Mike Guo, and he was simply the right person to ease her back into the idea of dating and give her some practice, that was all.
Satisfied, she stepped into the building, ignoring the doubts at the back of her brain, the ones telling her that this could be more than practice.