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“Because you just say whatever you want to say whenever you want to say it. The question is, do you mean everything you say?”
“Why say it if you don’t mean it?”
“Some men like to play games.”
“I can assure you, I am not one of those men.”
“So all this. You flirting with me all these months, hijacking my art project, talking me into going to dinner with you, this is what, exactly?”
“I’m not sure,” I answer truthfully.
“It’s not you just fucking with me to fuck with me?” She leans back, crossing her arms in front of herself.
“And why would I do that?”
“I don’t know, because you like to dangle the carrot in front of the rabbit with no intention of actually feeding the damn thing.”
I bark out a laugh, not able to help myself.
“Is that what you think I’m doing? Because if you want the carrot, all you have to do is ask. I’d be more than happy to feed it to you.”
“You know what I mean.” She refuses to be derailed by my comment.
“I’m not messing with you, Rory. I don’t have the time or the energy or the desire to lead someone on simply because I think I can. I flirt with you because I like the way you react to it. I insisted on being on your project because the thought of any of my other teammates getting to work with you so closely drove me absolutely fucking nuts. And I asked you to dinner because even though I don’t want to want you, I do. So there, is that upfront enough for you?”
“You want me?” she asks, disbelieving.
“Is that really so hard to believe?”
“Hi, Archer.” Another woman giggles as she passes. Perfect fucking timing.
“Do you want to ask me that question again?” She lifts a brow, arms still firmly crossed almost as if in a protective way.
“It comes with the territory. Attention from other people has no bearing on how I feel or what I want.”
“And what do you want, Archer?”
“I thought I made that pretty fucking clear. You.”
“And for how long? A week? A month? A day? An hour?”
“For as long as I can. But I’ll start with an hour. You’d be surprised what I can do in that amount of time.”
It’s her turn to laugh. And blush. And then laugh again.
“I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“So you’ve already said. I didn’t ask you here tonight so I could fuck you. That’s not to say that I don’t want to fuck you, because trust me, I do. Very, very much. But that wasn’t my goal. I just thought... I don’t know, that maybe if I could get you to go out with me, that you’d see I’m not a complete and utter douchebag like you think I am.”
“I don’t think that about you. Well, not the complete and utter part.”
Now she’s just busting my balls.
“Caesar salad, no dressing.” I startle when the waitress sets my salad in front of me, so consumed with Rory that I didn’t even notice her arrival. “And a Caesar salad with extra dressing.” She sets Rory’s salad in front of her. “Anything else I can get you for now?”
“We’re good.” I’m eager to hurry her along. “Tell you what,” I wait until she’s gone to say. “Let’s just enjoy our meal and see where the night goes.”
“I’m not sleeping with you,” Rory repeats again.
