“No, it doesn’t matter,” I say. But I don’t admit that if I were ever to settle down, I’d pictured myself with someone like Jody. A career woman who understands my lifestyle. Someone with ambition and intellect to match mine.
I flinch at my own stereotypes. I know nothing about Alice or her ambition.
Maybe Aiden was right earlier. I’m so distracted because I’ve not seen her. If I meet her again, I can get her out of my mind. Confirm it’s just a physical thing. But I wouldn’t want her to find out who I am until I’m certain.
I turn to Aiden, an idea taking shape.
“Aiden, you’re right. I’m going to invite her to Mesmeric Mystique and see how it goes.”
“Really?”
“Yes, you said it’s a sensory experience in the dark, right? Is it private or like a party?”
“It’s a private thing, so it’s good for a date. But, Mark, it’s pitch black. You won’t see her.”
“Correction, she won’t see me.”
Aiden drops his head into his hands with a groan.
“It’s perfect,” I say. “I can find out how I feel about her without her finding out who I am. It’s a win-win.”
He cocks his head and pins me with his famous Aiden steel stare. He does not approve.
“Come on, admit it’s not the worst idea,” I say.
“Why don’t you want her to know who you are?”
“Last time I went on a date, she pretended to be interested in whatever I was saying although I could tell she was just humouring me.”
“Did you talk about property investments again?”
“Oi, that wasonetime. The point is, dates are all fake and weird. But with Alice, if she doesn’t know who I am, what I look like, what my bank balance says; I can just relax and be me and enjoy the sensory experience.” I shrug and continue my breakfast.
Aiden’s glare relaxes, and he nods.
“Will you tell her you’re aware she’s not a member?”
“No, she doesn’t need to know you looked her up, you creep.”
“Hey, it was strictly in your best interest.”
“You’ll approve her entrance for the night, then?”
“Of course.”
The thought of feeling her skin again, those full thighs under my hands, is one I can’t push away easily. The idea of hearing her laughing and squealing with joy at the various sensory experiences, whatever they might be, makes me feel lightheaded.
“You’re smiling,” Aiden says and chuckles. “So I’m guessing you’re just a wee bit keen, then?”
“It’s just a test.” I put on my grumpy face again. Aiden’slike a dog with a bone.
“Probably best to gotonight, then,” he says.
“Tonight? Doesn’t it run for weeks?”
But why does the idea make my heart race?
“Yes, but better than being distracted even longer, isn’t it?”
