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He wanted to end things. That was why he’d been so nice and caring. He’d wanted to leave things on a high note. My heart stabbed, but I managed to keep my face blank. “Of course.”
“Maybe over breakfast?”
Sure, let’s extend the torture, shall we? “Sounds good.”
Breakfast for Tomás turned out to be fresh fruit—an orange and a kiwi—plus a cup of coffee. I got my usual Greek yogurt and granola with some fresh raspberries. Plus, obviously, coffee. Couldn’t function without the stuff, even though I should cut back on my caffeine intake.
“What did you want to talk about?” I said when I couldn’t stand the suspense anymore.
He chewed his kiwi and leaned back in his chair. “You mentioned the spanking and kinky stuff.”
Erm, what now? Was he about to tell me he was into BDSM? Power to him, but he’d have to do that without me. Not my cup of tea. “As a joke, yes.”
“And I said I’d had a lot of sex.”
“You mentioned you thought most people were theoretically okay with it until it concerned someone they were interested in.”
“Dating. I said someone they were dating.”
“Right.” Why that distinction? Then again, I was lost as to the direction this conversation was taking.
“Would you…” He cleared his throat. “You said you were dating, right?”
“I’ve registered on a dating website. Haven’t actually gone on a date.” Come to think of it, I hadn’t even checked for messages lately. Oops.
“But if you did, would someone’s sexual history be a dealbreaker for you?”
“Not unless it meant we’d be sexually incompatible. Like, if he were into serious BDSM, for example, that would pose a problem because it’s not something I’m interested in.”
“But not if it was just a lot of sex? Like, that wouldn’t deter you?”
Jesus, where was he going with this? I was so confused. “I already told you I don’t judge. Not theoretically and not in real life. Sex is not something to be ashamed of. It’s pleasurable when done right, fun, a great way of blowing off steam, and there’s nothing wrong with it.”
“What else are you looking for in a potential partner?”
Was he trying to play matchmaker for me? Maybe he had a friend or acquaintance he thought would make a good fit for me. Because what else could it be? I couldn’t think of a single reason he’d be so interested in this other than…
No, it couldn’t be. He didn’t want to date me.
Did he?
That ember of hope, never fully extinguished no matter how often I’d told myself to forget about it, roared back into a flame again. See? See? He might be interested in you, it said.
I refused to listen to it. I couldn’t, not if I wanted to keep my heart in one piece. “Erm, let me think. I want someone around my age, not too much older or younger. Not my preference. Someone who’s kind and caring and understanding of my life and that my kids come first and my job sometimes has to come first as well. We’d have to have things in common to bond over. Someone I can talk to, who knows how to have a conversation and has something to contribute.”
He slowly nodded. “No preferences in looks? He doesn’t need to be slim or attractive or something?”
I shrugged. “It’s a nice bonus, but it’s first and foremost about character for me. Sadly, the truth is that a lot of good-looking men are arrogant assholes. You and your brother may be the sole exceptions I know.”
“You don’t think I’m arrogant?”
I cocked my head. “A little, maybe, but that makes sense, considering your career. But you’re not an asshole, or I wouldn’t be sitting here with you in my kitchen.”
He sat a little straighter. “So you like me?”
Was that what this was? Some roundabout way of seeking affirmation? Maybe he’d started questioning everything after Tiago announced his retirement. I’d known Tomás’s wounds ran deep, but maybe they were even more profound than I had realized. But why then the questions about sex? No, that explanation didn’t make sense either. “Of course I like you. I always have.”
Fuck. My cheeks grew warm. “Forget I said that last part.”
