Page 59 of Nine

“Never mind. I can go by myself later.”

I sit on the edge of the bed and stare down.

“Do you want me to go with you? I’ll go. It’s just I’ve never been to a chick’s salon before.”

I look up at him surprised.

“No girl has ever dragged you into one?”

“No.”

“That’s shocking.”

“Not really,” he says.

“No. It is,” I confirm. “Most girls love that sort of thing. I used to see boyfriends dragged into the salon all the time when I would go.”

Trig stares at me.

“I don’t really date. I don’t do relationships. Not that I haven’t before. It’s just that I never found the right girl, and dating became more like a game instead of an investment. It became easier to just implement the clichéd no strings rule, and keep everything simple.”

I can’t control the disappointment in my face. I see his expression change.

“Not to mention my previous job. It’s not really something the ladies look for in a man.”

“Those girls are missing out,”

Trig tosses on a shirt and spins around. He smiles at me.

“You think so?”

I nod. I’m still thinking of what he said. He doesn’t date. He doesn’t do relationships, but then again, I don’t either.

“If both of us have a rule about dating, then what are we both doing, Trig?”

He walks over and squats down in front of me.

“I’d say we’re breaking the rules, but they no longer apply once the game is over.”

I lean forward and rest my forehead against his.

“I’m sorry about last night. I was just scar—”

He puts one finger up to my lips.

“We both said what we needed to say last night. Leave it at that.”

I nod. He stands up and finishes getting dressed and ready. I sit here on the bed and watch him. He’s so fucking hot. I can’t even tolerate it. He glances back at me, and I remember him angry in the sand last night, and how much passion was in his voice. I smile and he smiles back. When he’s finally done, we walk out of our room and down the hall to the hotel restaurant. It’s a beautiful day so we choose outside seating. I watch as a male waiter approaches the table.

“Good morning! What can I get you?”

“Pancakes and an orange juice, please,” I say.

He looks at Trig and smiles.

“French toast and a black coffee is fine,” he replies.

“Coming right up.”

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