Page 12 of Vixen's Guide to Christmas
“I take it I didn’t lose any points?” he says with a smirk.
“I’m impressed.” I do my best to recover from my shock, but I don’t know if it works. “So you’re a piano-playing, trivia-winning, dancing king who, let me guess, volunteers on the weekends building houses?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “No building houses. But I do go to the animal shelter and walk the dogs there.”
Oh, fuck my life. If I see him with a puppy, I’m going to let him put it in every hole.
“Okay, then, what gives?” I ask, because Katherine is not going to let me sleep with him tonight if I don’t. “What’s wrong with you?”
He almost spits out his bite at my directness. “You really don’t pull punches, do you?”
“Never have, never will,” I say. “But I’m assuming if you’re at a speed dating event, you’re single. At least, I hope you are.”
“Very,” he says. “Cheating is an absolute no for me.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page about that,” I say. “Okay, so the question now begs to be asked, why are you single?”
I hate getting that question more than any others in the dating world. But I can’t not ask it tonight. This man is just too…I don’t want to say the word perfect, because no one is, but Grayson is inching damn close to that line.
“I’m honestly not sure,” he says. “I’ve dated some since I moved here. A few more serious than others. My motto is why waste time dating if you know it’s probably not going to be for the long haul?”
“I completely agree,” I say. “Time is a commodity. And in my world, you have to earn my time.”
“Exactly.” We’re both done with our hot dogs, which gives Grayson the opportunity to move closer to me, his arm naturally going around the back of the bench. “Plus, we’ve just been talking about our good qualities. We haven’t disclosed the bads yet.”
I know what he means, but the flirtatious tone of his voice is still making me think what he’s about to say are pink flags at best.
“You’re very right,” I say, wondering what I want to tell him about myself that’s true, but also not so much to scare him away. “Okay, I’ll go first. I don’t like outdoorsy things.”
This makes him laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind. No outside dates.”
“Well, not necessarily,” I say. “There’s a difference between outside and outdoors. Patio bars? Yes. Camping? No. Beaches? Yes. Hiking? Fuck no.”
He laughs. “I never thought there was a difference.”
“Oh, there is,” I say. “I like to say it’s the difference between outside-y and outdoorsy.”
He lets that sit for a second. “That actually makes a ton of sense.”
I smile, and gently bump his shoulder. “Okay, there’s one of mine. What about you?”
He brings me in a little tighter. “I have a habit of communicating in memes.”
“I don’t consider that a red flag. To me that’s almost a love language.”
“I’ll take that,” he says. “And I do need to admit, up until recently, I used two-in-one shampoo.”
I laugh under my breath, though I am glad he told me that up front because now I know I can shower at his house. “Please tell me you have a bed frame.”
“I do. But I don’t have any pictures in my apartment. Not for any other reason than I never remember to take photos.”
“Same,” I say. “I’m the worst.”
He smiles and digs his phone out of his pocket. “Well, then, we’re going to have to remind each other to capture the moments.”
He pulls me in, holding his phone up to get a selfie of the two of us. I’m leaned into his shoulder, head slightly tilted, and if anyone was walking by it would look like this is date one hundred, not number one.
Fuck, I really am screwed…
