He slants me a look.
“If you need your ego stroked, why not go ask Corinne?” I blurt before I can stop myself.Guess I’m doing this.
His brow furrows. “Corinne?”
“Yeah, you know, tall, brunette.”Frigid as a freezer.“Aren’t you two dating?”
He stares at me blankly. “Why would you thinkthat?”
Because she told me so.
“She... alluded to it,” I reply haltingly. “And I’ve seen you two together. And Stephen saw you out to dinner one night.”
He looks taken aback.
“It makes sense; you two have a lot in common,” I rush to add, lest I seem like some stalker who’s been tracking his every move.May he never find out about that video.
He nods slowly, lips pursed like he’s thinking it over. “Have you ever gone out to eat with a male colleague after work? Say, John Conrad, perhaps?”
I pause. “Perhaps, but—”
“And are you dating him?” His eyes hold a sharp intensity.
“I see what you’re getting at, but John’s not running around telling people we’re together.”
“Well, whatever she told you is false,” he says, looking annoyed. “I’m not dating Corinne.”
“I think you and I might have different definitions of whatdatingmeans,” I say bluntly.
He cocks a brow. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just imply I’m some sort of male slut. I’m notdatingher, romantically or otherwise.”
He’s monitoring my expression closely, so I keep my mask of indifference firmly in place. But inside? I’m soaring. Pure, unadulterated joysurges through my veins. I want to stand and do a cheer. I want to run a marathon. I want to cannonball into his lap and nest there.
He tilts his head. “Would it bother you if ithadbeen a date?”
Oh, sugar.That question sends me crashing back down to earth. If I was taking a lie detector test, now is when the sensors would start jumping. He may as well have his thumbs on my wrists.
“Who you date is none of my business.”I’m such a cowardly lion.
“That’s not an answer.”
I shrug, but my face burns, exposing my lie. We’re dancing around this so expertly, we could be pairs figure skaters.
“Is it really such a hard question? Here, let me model it for you.”
“I don’t think—”
“You might ask me,Ben, would it bother you if I was out on a date with someone?And then I would respond,Why yes, Kate, that would bother me a whole hell of a lot.”
My jaw drops. My heart starts performing an elaborate tap dance in my chest.
He calmly lifts his beer to his lips and sips. “See? Not so hard.”
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”
He sets his beer down and exhales a long, slow breath, and it’s the sound of surrender. The sigh of someone at the end of their rapidly fraying rope. When he looks back up at me his eyes are emerald green fire, glowing brighter than I’ve ever seen them.Kryptonite eyes.I watch, transfixed, as they gradually darken, the pupils dilating right in front of me.
