“Probably,” I say with a smile. “But I hope I’ll have someone to share it with by then. A family, maybe.”
“Speaking of, how is your dating life with such a crazy schedule? Must not be easy. But maybe you’ve managed?”
I pause, then grimace. “I haven’t fared great. But I’m not sure the schedule is to blame.”
“Oh, do tell,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “Is this the part where you finally confess all your dark secrets or the horrible habits you can’t shake? Are you a secret mafia boss?”
I burst into laughter. This girl has way too wild of an imagination for her own good. “You always expect the worst from people, don’t you? You’re one of those.”
“Well, they haven’t exactly proven me wrong. So, tell me, why don’t you have a girlfriend? Is it because you never put the toilet seat down? Or is it more of an Interpol problem?”
I shake my head, laughing again. “Nope. Just bad experiences, I guess. Sorry—it’s a lame explanation and probably not what you were expecting. My life is pretty dull.”
There’s a glint in her eye as she taps her chin. “Wasn’t there a stalker? Or was that a joke?”
I smile, surprised she remembers. “Oh, yes. That actually happened. I went on one date with her and didn’t want to go further. Next thing I know, I’m receiving dozens of emails a day, handwritten letters mailed to the arena, surprise deliveries at my building—including a rather disturbing voodoo doll—and she once followed me across two states.”
Harper winces. “Wow. So you stopped pursuing relationships after that?”
“You’d assume so, right?” I chuckle. “But nope. Tried a few more times before hitting pause. What about you? Are you dating anyone?” I ask before I can stop myself, the question burning on my lips.
At first, I think she’s going to hold back and skip to her next question. Then, she says, “I called it quits a while back. I’ve already dated all the unstable men New York has to offer.”
I lean forward slightly. “And you’re not interested in the rest of the world? Or the stable ones?”
She waves off the suggestion. “Nah. I have the worst dating history you can imagine. It’s better to put an end to it. For my own safety.”
“I’m not sure,” I say lightly. “Probably hard to compete with mine.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”
“Well, I’ve got a stalker. That should give me a few points already.”
She nods. “True. But one of my exes followed me home after dates for ‘safety,’ which is kind of the same brand of crazy.”
“I dated one girl who started telling people we were engaged behind my back. After five dates.”
Her eyes widen. “Well, one of my exes had a whole secret family. Wife, kid, dog, house with a white picket fence—the works. I had no idea. I even went to his apartment a few times.”
My jaw drops a few inches. “No! Did you tell the wife?”
“Of course. She had to know.”
“You’re ruthless,” I say, struggling to hold in my laughter.
“He deserved it.”
I sit back, thinking over my other bad experiences. “Well, I had a couple of cheaters, of course, but I’m sure you’ve had those too. One moved into my apartment when I was on a streak of awaygames. We were dating for barely a month. I gave her a key to water my plants, and when I came back, she had moved all her stuff in and redecorated.”
She raises her eyebrows. “You’re joking!”
“I wish. Took me days to put everything back to how it was. And I had to change my locks, just in case she made copies of my keys.”
She shakes her head slowly. “Wow.”
“Do I win?”
“I don’t think so. One of my exes was a criminal and ended up in prison.”
