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“You did.”
I frowned, feeling an unexpected pang of jealousy. “Oh. Sorry.”
Donovan leaned in, his smirky smile widening. “I had a hot date with Bruce Willis planned. How about you? Any plans spoiled for this evening?”
I shook my head. “Just a night of catching up with The Bachelor.”
Donovan’s nose scrunched up. “You like that show?”
“I’m addicted to it—so much so that I can’t handle the stress of watching it once a week and waiting to find out what happened. I record them and don’t start until I can spend an entire evening bingeing the episodes. My friend Skye and I watch it together.”
He chuckled. “I find it amusing when women talk about the people on that show like they’re real.”
“What do you mean like they’re real. They are real.”
“You don’t think shows like that are scripted?”
“Don’t say that!”
He laughed. “Did I just tell eight-year-old Autumn there’s no Santa Claus?”
“Well, even if it is scripted, it’s better than—which aging action hero did you say you were going to watch? Bruce Willis or Tom Cruise?”
“Bruce.”
“Those movies are faker than The Bachelor. Most of the actors don’t even do their own stunts.”
Donovan’s eyes flickered down to my lips a moment. It was less than a second—I could’ve blinked and missed it—yet that fraction of a second set off a frenzy of butterflies in my belly. This. This was the reason I’d done something I’d never done before and spent an entire weekend with a man I barely knew. We just had to look at each other, and sparks flew.
I felt the need to change the subject, but really, what was safer than talking about action movies?
“Anyway…” I said. “I’m glad I didn’t interrupt any big plans you had for tonight.”
He nodded, and then silence fell while he watched me. I got the distinct feeling he was debating saying something, and when he finally spoke, I realized I was right.
“So…the Dickster. How long has that been going on?”
I stirred my shake again to avoid eye contact. “Not too long. A month or so.”
He nodded. “I guess things changed over the last year, then?”
My eyebrows dipped together. “What do you mean?”
“After our luggage exchange, you disappeared because you only wanted what we’d had—a weekend, not a relationship. And now you’re in one.”
“I’m not in a serious relationship with Blake. We’re just dating.”
“Yet you gave him your phone number and let him see you more than once…”
“It’s different.”
“How?”
“Well, Blake and I only really see each other once a week, if that. We keep things simple. He’s divorced with kids and not looking for anything complicated.”
“I would’ve kept things simple, if that’s what you wanted.”
“Really? Because I wouldn’t have been able to.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “But the time we spent together didn’t feel like something simple to me. Did it for you?”
He studied me. “No, but that doesn’t mean I would have pushed you for more than you were ready to give. I work eighty to ninety hours a week most weeks, anyway.”
I sighed. “I just prefer to keep things uncomplicated.”
“So things with Dickson…they’re uncomplicated?”
“Yes.”
“And that means…”
“I don’t know. I guess it means I don’t have to worry about either of our feelings becoming too much.”
Donovan scratched his chin. “Let me see if I understand this. You liked me, and you had a good time that weekend we spent together. But you thought one or both of us might develop feelings. You have no worry about that with Dickson, so you keep seeing him.”
“Well…yes.”
“So you only date men you don’t really like?”
“I, uhh…no… I mean…well.” I shook my head. “Stop lawyering me. You’re making me confused at what I’m even saying.”
Donovan smiled and shook his head. “It really sucks to be on this side.”
“What side?”
“The it’s-not-you-it’s-me bullshit. I’m usually the one deflecting like you are right now.”
“I’m not deflecting. I’m trying to be honest with you.”
Again, his eyes dropped to my lips. Only this time, they lingered much longer. When they finally lifted to look at my face, it felt like he could see right through me. “So the two of you aren’t exclusive, then?”
“It’s exclusive for me.”
He squinted. “And it’s not for him?”
I shrugged. “Maybe it is. I’m not sure. We’ve never discussed it. But I prefer to only…you know…with one person at a time.”
Donovan’s jaw flexed, and his tanned skin seemed to grow a shade darker. He gave a curt nod. “Understood.”
A few minutes later, the waitress came to check on us. When I said I didn’t want anything else, Donovan asked for the check. It was late, but I got the feeling his sudden desire to call it a night had nothing to do with the time.
After we argued over the bill and Donovan paid, we headed to my car. The ride back to the police station was quiet, yet the air felt filled with unspoken words. I pulled into the spot next to his car and put the car in park.
