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Beck winked, and another chunk of the frost guarding my heart melted off. It was a good thing I was leaving in the morning, because this was nice—a gentleman: opening the door, pulling out my chair, telling me I looked beautiful. Don’t get me wrong, I also liked the other side of Beck—the one who wasn’t a gentleman: opening my zipper rather than the door, pulling my hair rather than my chair, telling me to touch myself rather than how beautiful I looked. But I hadn’t been on a date in a long time, and it felt nice to be treated special outside the bedroom.
“So, I feel like we’ve spent a lot of time together the last few weeks.” I sipped my wine and watched Beck over the rim. He was always attentive, but tonight there was something different in the way he watched me, something even more intense than usual, if that were possible. “What will you do to occupy yourself while I’m gone?”
“First off, we haven’t actually spent that much time together.”
“We’ve seen each other five out of seven nights for the last two weeks.”
“Yes, but only for an hour each time. Add that time up, and it’s less than a day of work I put in at the office.”
“Oh. Well, think of all the normal-length dates you can have when I’m gone.” Even as I said it, my stomach roiled sour.
Beck’s wine was halfway to his lips when his hand froze. “I wasn’t planning on dating.” His forehead creased. “Are you?”
The truth was, I had no desire to date. For the last few years, dating had been a means to an end. I liked sex occasionally. So I made small talk during drinks or listened to some stockbroker tell me how much money he made during an overpriced dinner. But I didn’t miss the dating part. Then again, none of the men I’d dated were anything like Beck.
I shrugged, trying to come off casual. “No, but…you know, whatever happens, happens. I don’t want you to feel like tonight—us going out together—changes anything.”
Beck pursed his lips. “How could I do that, when you’ve reminded me five-hundred times that I’m nothing but a fuck to you?”
“That’s what we agreed to.”
“Yes, I know. But I’m not a dog who humps anything with legs. I think I can make it the two weeks you’re gone.”
“You don’t have to get so pissy. I just wanted to put it out there that I wouldn’t be upset if you…you know.”
Beck’s eyes roamed my face like he was looking for something. Then he squinted. “You wouldn’t be upset if I…what, Nora? Say it, if it doesn’t bother you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think we both know what I’m talking about. I don’t need to be crass and say it.”
Beck leaned forward. “But I want you to. It wouldn’t bother you if I, what, fucked another woman? Maybe buried my face between her legs, like I do you? That wouldn’t bother you, right?”
My jaw tightened. “That’s fine.”
“Really? Maybe I can take a date here. Bring her home. Feed her my cock for dessert.”
I gripped my wine glass. “Do whatever you want.”
“Riiight.” He nodded. “Sure. Because you don’t care what I do. It’s all just, you know, casual.”
I shrugged and looked away. The air between us crackled. I felt Beck’s angry eyes on me, but I couldn’t turn my head. Not yet anyway.
Eventually, he broke the silent tension. “Nora, look at me.”
My eyes slanted back to meet his. Long seconds ticked by while he held my gaze. After a minute, he shook his head. “Fuck it. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. So I’m going to go out on a limb and be honest here—maybe for the first time since you kissed me that night in the bar.” He leaned closer. “I don’t want you fucking anyone else. Or sucking anyone’s cock. And the thought of another man touching you…” He looked away for a few seconds before meeting my eyes again. “It makes me feel violent, Nora. And I’m not a violent man. So you sit there and pretend you give no fucks about what I do while you’re gone. But I’m going to be real. Because while it might violate your rules to give a shit, I’d rather you be pissed off at me for being honest than happy when I lie to you.”
I opened my mouth and closed it, unsure what to say.
Beck tossed his napkin on the table and stood. “I’m going to the men’s room. Finish your wine, and when I come back, we can go back to pretending.”
Before I could say anything, he stalked away from the table. He was gone for almost ten full minutes. I started to think maybe he’d left me here. But then he returned. His angry face had softened, and I felt like a fool.
Beck pulled in his chair as he spoke. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have overstepped.”
I held up a hand. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re right. It would bother me if you were with another woman.”
“The funny thing is, I’m usually sitting where you are in these things—feeling like I got bait-and-switched in the deal I made.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to be with anyone while I’m away. And I don’t want you to be with anyone either.”
