Page 5 of Spotlight
“Why not?”
“Life.” It’s my usual canned reply, but then I remember I’m never going to see this guy again. “I got pregnant.”
“You have a kid?” His lips curve with a bigger smile than I’d expect. It isn’t like most guys recoil in horror, but they rarely look this… happy about it.
“A daughter. She turns six next week.”
He’s quiet, as if considering my answer or maybe waiting for me to say more. I clamp my mouth shut. I’ve already overshared, but for some reason I still don’t want to leave. If anyone asks, I’ll blame it on the cold numbing my brain, but really, I think it’s him.
“What’s your name?”
I could tell him. Even if he were a serial killer, which I’ve pretty much ruled out at this point, I don’t know how a name is going to change anything, but I feel like I’ve already said too much.
“Fine. Doesn’t matter.”
Now I laugh. “At least you’re honest. You’ll forget it in an hour anyway, right?”
“I know I’ve only known you for a few minutes, but you aren’t the kind of woman a guy forgets so easily.”
My cheeks heat even though I’m certain that was a total line.
He shifts slightly and the lights reveal a sharp jawline and full lips that are quirked up in a smile. “A person’s name is usually the least interesting thing about them, so if you’re only offering a few pieces of information, I want the ones that tell me more about who you really are.”
It’s a more insightful answer than I was expecting. It’s probably still a line.
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
He barks out a laugh in the night air and it loosens some of the tension. He has a nice laugh, deep and throaty.
“I’d say the thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but I’d be lying.” Another quiet chuckle leaves his lips after the admission. “Won’t tell me your name, not sleeping with me, but you will stand out here and talk with me?”
I should go inside and get some sleep before our early flight.
“You know, there’s a bar downstairs filled with women who would probably be willing to do a lot more than talk.” An image of some other woman entertaining this guy flashes through my mind, along with an unexpected hit of jealousy.
He probably would have talked to anyone that walked out here. I’m not special. I was in the right place at the right time. But the thing about moments like this is that they feel special regardless of your better instincts. Fate. Destiny. Luck. Whatever you want to call it. I’m a hopeless romantic at heart and this stranger in the dark asking me questions is the most romantic thing that’s happened to me in a long time. How sad is that?
“Is that a no?” he asks.
“I haven’t decided,” I say, but don’t make any move to go inside.
“Was the guy on the phone your boyfriend?”
“No. I am very single.” And in case he thinks that’s an invitation, I add, “I’m not interested in dating right now.”
“That bad, huh?” he asks with a tinge of disbelief in his voice, like dating is awesome. Maybe for him it is. Actually, even without fully seeing him, I get the sense that he dates a lot and is great at it.
“I’d like to blame the men I’ve been out with, but honestly, it’s me. I’m a terrible date.”
“What? No way. I don’t believe that.” His gaze rakes over me and it’s the first time I realize he might be able to see me better than I can see him.
“It’s true. I promise you.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Now tell me something about you.”
“I’m an open book. What do you want to know?”
“Why are you in the city?”
He takes a beat, as if considering his words carefully. Maybe not such an open book after all.
