I snort.Nobody wants to be like me.
 
 He doesn’t know enough about me to realize that, though. And it’s true, I do have my strengths, but part of the reason it’s easy for me to enjoy the little things is because sometimes my depression stops me from doing so. Thus, I appreciate it when I’m able to.
 
 I don’t tell him that.
 
 “You don’t party at all?” I say. “What about women? Seems to me the next two weeks would be a great time for, I don’t know, lots of sex? Maybe not an orgy, but a fling?”
 
 “It certainly did cross my mind when I invited you to stay with me.”
 
 My eyes widen. “I didn’t mean a fling withme.”
 
 “Why not? Do you have a boyfriend? A husband?” He glances at my hand—I’m not wearing any rings.
 
 “No.” I ball up my hands, feeling self-conscious.
 
 He smiles at me now, a different smile than before. This one is slow and sensual and makes my skin prickle with awareness.
 
 Nobody has flirted with me in ages, but now Julian Fong is flirting with me. It appears he really does want me to be his manic pixie dream girl after all.
 
 “I don’t do casual flings,” I say. “Not my cup of tea.”
 
 “Whatisyour cup of tea?”
 
 “Earl Grey.”
 
 His smile broadens. “I don’t usually do casual flings, either, but there’s a first time for everything.”
 
 “Too much commitment for you? Are you a one-night-stand kind of guy?”
 
 “To be honest, I prefer relationships, but I’m terrible at them, so I don’t bother anymore.”
 
 “Hmm. A young CEO who actually likes relationships.”
 
 “You have a rather specific idea of who I should be.”
 
 I shrug. “You fit a type. Sort of.” I pause. “I don’t do relationships, either.”’
 
 “Excellent. A casual fling it is.”
 
 “Ijusttold you that I don’t do those.”
 
 Julian looks perplexed. He might not usually do casual flings or one-night stands, but I’m sure he has no trouble getting such things when he wants them. Even if he weren’t attractive—although he totally is—he’s rich and powerful, and that doesn’t count for nothing.
 
 “Besides,” I say. “You’ve spent the last twenty minutes telling me that you don’t know how to have fun. Why would I want to go to bed with you?”
 
 Oh, God. Did I really just say that?
 
 He steps closer to me. Only a tiny step, but it’s enough to quicken my breath. He dips his head and whispers, “There’s one place Idoknow how to have fun.”
 
 I’m thinking about it, and he knows it. His body pressing against mine...
 
 “No,” I say firmly. “Not happening.”
 
 He quirks an eyebrow. “You seem to find the idea appealing, though.”
 
 I do. However... “I’m not good at casual sex. I’m one of those women who get attached when they sleep with someone, and like I said, I don’t do relationships.” Too risky.
 
 “Does that mean you never have sex?”