I scrunched my brows together. “Why not? Not into any of them?”
“Not interested in dating right now,” He replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just got out of a relationship right before accepting the job with your dad.”
I hummed around my straw, tipping my head to dip it back into my drink before taking a lazy sip. “What’s your type, then?”
He gave me a wary look.
“You know,” I added with a cheeky grin, “for future reference. In case you need a good wingman.” He wouldn’t. Not with the Westwend gossip-wheel likely already querying around for a potential wife to lock him in permanently. But, I didn’t want to freak him out just yet.
Derek let out a humorless laugh and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, comeon,” I groaned, flopping back dramatically in my seat. “Everyone has a type.”
He gave a placating grin at my theatrics, but then thought for a moment.
“I guess… a girl who knows what she wants. Someone who’s passionate about having a family. Obviously, intelligent, too.”
I waited to see if he filled in more, but when he didn’t, I knew I had my answer. While I figured he was straight, hearing it hit a little harder than I expected. I took a long breath, letting the feeling wash over me. It was for the best. Definitely easier this way. The single women of Westwend would rejoice at the fresh meat.
“No preference on looks?” I pressed.
He shrugged. “I mean, I want to be attracted to her, obviously. But I’m not picky about things like hair color or whatever.”
I nodded along. “Cool. Cool.” Internally, though, I cringed for him. This town was going to be turned into agladiator pit with all the local girls vying for his attention. And without any clear preferences, he wouldn’t be able to bat them off with a ‘you’re not my type’.
Derek looked up with that smug little smirk he wore so well. “Okay, wise guy. Your turn.”
I paused.
This was the part where I decided if I wanted to trust him—really trust him. We were in Texas, a very red state, and people could surprise you in the worst ways. But, if we were going to be friends he needed to know. And it would be better for him to hear it from my mouth than one of the nosy gossips in town.
So, I went for it.
“I have a thing for blonde girls.” I started, casually. Derek nodded. “But I also like the tall, dark, and handsome types for guys.”
Derek reacted almost immediately, straightening in his seat a bit. I held his gaze, my grin easy, like I just told him my favorite dog breed, but inside? My stomach was doing backflips.
“You’re—” he started.
“Bi.” I finished, trying to make it sound light and effortless. The acrobatics that continued in my gut would disagree with the sentiment, though.
Derek took a beat to process it, then leaned back as a cocky grin tugged at his lips.
“So, you’re telling meI’myour type?” He teased, flipping imaginary long hair over his shoulder.
Just like that, the tension snapped, and I burst out laughing. He wasn’t wrong, but I’d die before admitting it.
“Oh, is that how you see yourself?” I shot back, still chuckling.
Before he could answer, Sandra swung by with our food, setting down our plates and giving us a moment to cool off from that little identity revelation. She eyed the napkin that sheleft with Derek’s plate with intent for a moment before sauntering back off. Just as I was about to take a bite of my sandwich, Derek spoke up.
“Have you always known?” He questioned, cutting his sandwich in half. He was so proper.
“That I’m bi?” I clarified.
He nodded, not looking at me. “I’m straight, so I have no point of reference for what it’s like to know you’re into the same sex.”
“It’s not the same for everyone, but it wasn’t something obvious for me.” I admitted, wiping my messy hands on my napkin. “I think there were signs when I was younger, but it didn’t really click till high school.”
