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Winter opens her mouth to ask another question, I’m sure, but my good ole friend Fat Billie appears tableside with a shit-eating grin, a brown paper bag, and a case of the hiccups. Another man wearing a food smeared apron unloads chili-cheese fries and fried pickles onto our table, clanking the plates into each of our glasses while doing it.
“Would you like thatother thingwith your food, Alex?” Billie asks.
Winter chuckles from across the table.
“Aleck. And Please.”
He dumps the paper bag on the table, drops two spoons beside it, then pulls a stack of paper napkins from his back pocket and sets them down before disappearing back to his crevice.
“What’s in the bag?” Winter lifts an eyebrow suspiciously.
I pull the Phish Food out of the bag with a broad smile. Winter’s mouth drops open, then her entire face lights up.
If I’m really thinking about it, why the hell did I do this? Why did I have Winter’s favorite ice cream delivered to a dive bar, on ournon-dateshe had to convince me to go on? Then her smile digs deeper, stretching into a grin. And this,thissmile and the look of sheer happiness because I’ve pleased her, or noticed her, or listened to her is why.
But why did I want to make her happy so badly?
Don’t care. BecauseI’mhappy. Happy that she’s happy. See, still just a selfish prick.
“I cannot believe you had my favorite ice cream delivered to Fat Billie’s.” She laughs, immediately grabbing a spoon. “You’re just the right amount of charming, aren’t you? I mean, you’re mostly an asshole, but there’s this ribbon of allure in everything you do. Just enough to keep them enamored.”
“Who’sthem?” I take a sip of my whiskey.
“The women. All of them. Thedrovesof women who swoon over you. You know who I’m talking about. You spend your life disregarding them… Until you don’t. Then you do shit like this, and they ignore all the terrible ways you’ve treated them and remain enamored.”
“It’s the dose that makes the poison, Grimm.” I pluck a fry with nothing on it from the edge of the plate of slop and pop it into my mouth. “Are you sayingyou’reenamored?”
“I’m saying I recognize your appeal.”
“A simple thank you would suffice.”
Winter’s tongue swipes across her bottom lip before she smiles. “Thank you, Aleck.”
Selfishly, I absorb all the happiness in her expression and store it in my memory. I’ll pull it out the next time I realize just how ugly life is. I’ll remember there are people out there who can make me feel something other than indifference. Maybe the memory will even help me sleep when myothermemories won’t.
“You’re welcome, Winter.”
“I bet you’re the grand gesture type. I bet you’ve even bought out an art gallery for the night, so you and your date can eat dinner privately amongst genuine beauty. Or something ridiculously romantic like that.” She laughs, loading another spoonful ofhalf-meltedice cream—thanks a lot, Billie.
“I’m flattered by your faith in me, but I don’t date.”
Her brows dip and her eyes narrow. “Never?”
“Never.”
Winter looks genuinely perplexed. I don’t know why. Two days ago, she thought I was the devil blessed with a chronic erection.
She scrapes a fried pickle through her ice cream, and I nearly heave, but oddly find it quirky because it’s such aWinterthing to do.
“Don’t you get lonely? Sleeping next to someone you trust can be so comforting.”
“You find me someone I can trust, and I’ll consider amending my rule. Until then, I won’t sleep next to anyone.”
“Okay, I’m not completely shocked you don’t date. Eternal playboy and all that. But you don’t sleep next to anyone either? What happens with the women you bring home?”
I swirl my whiskey in its glass against the table, probably looking as unaffected as I feel talking about the matter.
“I never bring anyone to my room. I have a big place. We enjoy each other elsewhere. In one of the few guestrooms my condo has, for instance. And when we’re done, I retire to my room.Sleepingtogetherisn’t part of the deal. I fuck, Winter. I don’t date, I don’t make love, I don’t court women or plan elaborate weekend trips. I fuck, then I sleep in my bed alone.”
