Page 52 of Lovesick
He laughed. Nothing seemed to faze him, which disconcerted me more. How was he this smooth? How could I ever be my bookish self in front of someone so unruffled? Would he be upset if I wanted to curl up with a book instead of dress up for dinner?
“I’m picky,” he admitted. “I know a good woman when I meet her. This sort of circumstance is my life. My everyday sort of life when I’m home and not traveling for work, anyway.”
“And are you happy?”
He smiled. “Very. It suits me. It seems like it doesn’t suit you?”
I shook my head, hair swaying.
“That’s disappointing, because you’re lovely, Lizbeth. To be honest, doing anything different for a date seems ... dishonest. It doesn’t seem fair to pretend otherwise. This may be overwhelming, but when I bring a woman into a situation like this, I want to see what happens. Romance and presentation and displays are important to me. I’m wealthy and plan to always climb that ladder. Any partner of mine will need to keep up with that.”
“So, what if I wasn’t well suited to that? Then what?”
He shrugged. “I decide at the end of the date whether we would be compatible or not. If I decide we are, I move things forward at my own pace.”
There was so much wrong there that I almost reached for the taser.Hispace?Hewould decide?
But wasn’t that the alpha male?
“What if you decided wewerecompatible?” I asked, reaching for the wine to give my hand something to do.
“Then I’d arrange our next date, pick you up, and sweep you off your feet again.”
My mind spun with thoughts I couldn’t fully articulate, but at least one was perfectly clear:Why do you get to control everything?
“When would I get to decide something?”
He smiled, but this time it failed to impress me. “Whenever you like, of course. But why make decisions when it feels so good to be taken care of?”
I decided not to answer that, too unnerved by how smoothly the words came out. The pad of my thumb ran over the edge of my phone. I thought of JJ, but kept my voice light when I asked, “And am I failing?”
“Of course not.”
He said it so quickly that I doubted him. It would be easy to play the game I thought he wanted. Let him think he was in control. Or that I didn’t care about these small touches, the aggressive gifts, just to make him want it more. Or antagonize him just to throw him off. In the books, that always impressed the hell out of men. It was delicious when I read about it.
But this just felt ... like a game.
Beneath his easy elegance, I sensed there wasn’t much I’d connect with. How did he feel about children? How would he feel about me running a coffee shop that he’d have no say in? I’d had my fill of controlling men when Dad grabbed me by the hair and threw me against the wall, thank you very much.
The flash of memory caught me by surprise.
The crumble of drywall beneath my head. Falling onto my shoulder, dazed. Utter disbelief had a way of stopping you in your tracks. The throb in my ears that gave way to his screams.
Everything had whirled around for a while after that, until it all just faded to black.
Then, in the morning light, Mama leaned over me. Stroked my cheek. Whispered softly while a tear dribbled from her black eye. In the background, red roses lay scattered on the table.
A solemn apology, years too late.
With difficulty, I extracted myself from the memory. My voice was hoarse when I asked, “What does your perfect day look like, Tyler?”
If he was startled by the turn in the conversation, he gave no hint of it.
“I’d be up early to make you breakfast in bed. We’d lounge for hours making love. Maybe pop into a hot tub with champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries. Enjoy a few movies at home, naked. Perhaps an elegant night out with you in an evening gown and me in a tux, finished off with dancing under the stars. Something along those lines. And yours?”
Confirmation.
“Books.” I spread my hands out. “Piles of them. And myself, tucked into a chair, with food and drink at hand. At the end of the day, and after about four books so satisfying I couldn’t stop reading long enough to eat lunch, I’d stop. I might get dinner with someone. Maybe they could even spend the day with me, but they’d have to be pretty special.”
