“It seems poor form to leave a woman guessing.”
“Maybe people in your generation need to be in constant contact.”
Hisgeneration. He couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “Cara, a man who wants a woman makes it plain, regardless of his generation. If he does not, then he is not a man, and he does not want you.”
“First of all that’s very gender essentialist, and second of all, that isn’t true. People’s lives don’t revolve around romance, you know. They have to prioritize themselves too. Carter has likely had a long day dealing with my father—I used to assist both him and you so I know how blessedly annoying it can be.”
“Yes, I’m known for that.”
“And,” she continued, “he probably has to engage in some self-care before going to bed and preparing for work tomorrow.”
“Self...care?”
“Yes. Lighting a candle, listening to Enya, doing a sheet mask.”
Her expression was entirely bland. He couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not.
“I do not understand how this is care?”
“OMG, of course you don’t.”
She was goading him. He could do one better.
“Lyssia, if I had a beautiful woman waiting for my call I would call her. What is a lit candle for if not to gaze at your lover in firelight?” Her eyelashes fluttered. She looked away from him. He felt something wicked tighten his gut. Something he knew full well he shouldn’t indulge. “What is music for, if not a soundtrack to which you might seduce your lover?”
Her eyes had gone glassy and she was looking at him now. “And the sheet mask?”
“I do not know what that is.”
“It’s for your skin.”
“I still don’t know what it is.”
“It makes your skin look...glowy.”
He laughed. “Now that really is useless. Nothing makes a woman’s skin glow better than the aftereffects of lovemaking. A man who needs asheet maskis not an accomplished lover.”
She sounded like she was wheezing. “In this case it’s for his skin, not mine.”
“Either way.”
“Well, that’s how you see things,” she said. “People now might argue that’s toxic.”
“To be thought of at all times? Desired at all times?”
“Yes. It’s not that deep.”
He huffed a laugh. “Then why bother with it?”
It was a disingenuous question. His relationships were never deep. But she didn’t seem like she would be that sort of person. She was...
It was difficult to describe Lyssia, who seemed to take many of life’s luxuries for granted, but was also emotional, passionate and compassionate...in certain ways.
She could also be scathing, sharp and sarcastic. With him. Only ever with him.
“You’re indoctrinated by Fairy-Tale Culture,” she said. “Entertainment aimed at children that centers on romantic relationships and only depicts happy endings containing conventional romances have poisoned you.”
He did not bother to ask her why she thought he might have consumed such media. “Yes, Lyssia, that is my Achilles’ heel. I am an old-fashioned romantic.”