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“Which is?”
“Sex is great, but there’s more to relationships that just sex.”
Kaan’s mouth falls open as if he had just been told he only has a week to live. “You must be doing it wrong.”
“I’m not.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“In your dreams.” I playfully scoff and roll my eyes at him. “I want friendship and intimacy, respect, excitement, and… love.”
“I’ve heard rumours that these things exist.” Kaan grins wickedly at me. “Although it seems like a lot of unnecessary work to just get laid.”
“Which is probably why you’ll die alone.”
“I intend to die doing what I do best.” He laughs loudly at the look of disgust on my face. “Don’t knock me until you’ve had me… and had me… and then had me again.”
Kaan pushes his plate away from him and leans on his elbows on the table and narrows his eyes at me suspiciously. “I see what you did there; changing the subject back to me.”
“You like to talk about yourself.”
“I’d prefer to talk about you. Tell me about your baggage.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I meet a guy. I like him. He likes me. We go on a few dates… and then it’s over and I get a handbag… or a bloody big set of matching designer luggage full of reasons to hate on myself.”
“Why do you do that?”
I stab at my salad with my fork. “Maybe I expect too much; I go looking for reasons for the relationship to fall apart… I don’t know. Either way I end up dumped and picking up the shattered pieces of my heart.”
Kaan stops chewing. He doesn’t move but the intensity of his stare is so strong it pulses in the air between us. “Shattered pieces?”
Embarrassed heat rushes to my cheeks. “Of my heart.”
He stares at me a moment longer before chewing again. “So, what type of guy are you looking for? Who’s your perfect man… unless it happens to be me, of course?”
I scrunch my nose at him in distaste. “It’s definitely not you.”
“It might be.”
“I’m a sucker for a guy with blonde hair.”
“You know that 68% of serial killers are blonde.”
“You made that up.”
“I only tell the truth.”
“Still seems like pretty good odds.”
“Sure, I mean, except for the fact that they might chop you up into tiny pieces and hide you in some of your baggage if the date tanks.”
Kaan rattles me, but for some reason, I can’t stop talking. “Doesn’t really matter. I recently made the decision that I’m just not going to date anymore.”
“At all?”
“Guess I don’t have to worry about the serial killers then.” I let out a big sigh and fidget in my chair. “I’d rather stay single than have the complication of a relationship that’s ultimately doomed to fail.”
“That’s defeatist talk!” He shakes his head at me. “So, what happened with your last relationship?”
