“Sounds good,” I say, but I’m distracted, hyper aware of everyone in the restaurant and outside of it. There’s a small crowd gathering. It’s beginning. It starts with a couple of flashes and escalates. That’s when we start getting looks and whispers from the rest of the patrons in the restaurant.
Quint either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “You know, my grandma used to say those who matchmake are trying to avoid falling in love themselves.”
I focus my attention back on him. If he can pay attention to me despite the commotion we’re causing, I need to give him the same level of focus. I’m the one who’ssupposed to be used to this, after all. “Well, she might be right, but that’s really the only time I indulged in that particular hobby. They’d known each other since they were kids. I just gave them a little push.”
“Have you ever been in love?” he asks, chill as can be.
The question is startling. “Umm, I thought I was.”
“With that asshole who played Jay?”
I take a long sip of the sparkling water, enjoying the burn of the bubbles at the back of my throat. “Yeah. I guess I was for a time. Turns out I was a fool to believe he returned the sentiment. I was just a convenience. I’m not sure love is even really possible in my line of work. Once you hit a certain level of fame, you can’t really trust anyone’s motives.”
“That’s sad. I’ve been looking for love since I figured out what it was.”
How is he six years younger than me and light years ahead in understanding what’s important in life. “And have you found it?”
“Yeah, a few times.”
“But nothing stuck.”
“No. Not yet. But I think that’s about to change.” The way he’s looking at me is terrifying. Like he thinks it’s me.
“Listen, Quint.” I place my fork down, reaching over to grab his hand. “It’s not going to happen between us. I don’t want you getting the wrong idea. This is all fake.” I wave my hand between us. “Look out the window. This is a show. We live in completely different worlds. And you’re too nice of a guy to shatter your heart and leave the pieces behind when I go back to LA.”
His smile slips. “I know. I just wish things were different.”
I glance out the window again. Sometimes I do too.
He finishes chewing a bite of his sandwich then leans across the table. “But you know just because we’re keeping things fake in the relationship department, doesn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy some of the benefits of our attraction to each other. If you know what I mean.”
My mouth falls open. This was not the conversation I was expecting to have over sparkling water and tilapia. “Are you suggesting a no-strings kind of situation?”
He ducks his head, and I could swear a hint of pink creeps up from under his collar.
“Yeah. I guess I am.”
I tap my fingernails on the table in a rhythmic beat, not sure how much I should tell him about my likes. Might scare him right off. On the other hand, it’s been way too long since I felt a man’s hands on my body. And I can almost picture how good those hands would feel.
“Look. While it is tempting, I’m not sure you’d be up for the kind of things I’m into. A lot of guys aren’t?”
His eyes widen and he leans in even closer. “Try me.”
“Well, I know most guys like to be the ones in charge. But that doesn’t do anything for me. When I’m with a man, I like to be the one in charge.”
“Oh, so you…” But instead of the shock I was expecting, his lips curl up in a slow smile. “I think I’d like for you to boss me around.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He tucks his lower lip between his teeth.
Now I’m the one leaning in, dropping my voice to the barest of whispers only for his ears. “So, if I told you to get on your knees for me, you’d say yes?”
“Absolutely.” His eyes darken to a rich honey color.
I lean in even closer. “And if told you to strip, you’d do it? Like a good boy?”
He takes in a sharp inhale. “Yes, I would.”
