Chapter Three – Cullen
CHAPTER THREE
CULLEN
“ O h, the owner!”
Verity’s eyes light up as she leans forward and grasps his hand with her own. My jaw ticks slightly at their contact, and I find myself analyzing the way she looks at him.
“The one and only.”
“Verity. This place is amazing.”
“Why, thank you. We just had our one-year anniversary.” He slides his gaze down to me. “Someone didn’t show up to celebrate. Claimed he was too busy.”
“I was busy, and in Naples.”
“Naples, Florida. You could’ve made the trip up.”
“On what? My nonexistent private jet?”
“Rafe showed up.”
“Rafe lives in the city, and he has a private helicopter and a private jet. He’s not like us.”
“Excuses, excuses.” He points a finger at Verity. “If he ever misses a date, come tell me.”
“Oh. Oh, we’re not dating.” Verity curls her hand against her chest awkwardly. “This isn’t a date.”
“Really? Didn’t look that way from the bar.”
“Please leave,” I grind out, glaring up at him.
“Are you saying my company is unwanted?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, okay. I wouldn’t want your food to get cold, anyway.” He stands up and shoots me a wink. “They’re on the house. Just remember to make me the best man at your wedding this time, old man.”
“I’m only a few years older than you.”
He just sticks out his tongue as he walks away, and I drop my head in my hands.
“I’m going to kill him.”
A glittering laugh bounces around me, and I look up to see Verity doubled over in her seat, one hand clutching her stomach while the other covers her mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” she wheezes in between breaths. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”
“I should’ve expected it,” I sigh.
Bringing her here was an oversight on my behalf. Sonny’s always been more like a younger brother than a friend, and he’s the definition of ‘work hard, party harder.’
I nudge one of the plates closer to her, hoping to steer her attention away from him. The last thing I need is for her to tempt him to come back and start spewing stories of the crazy things we used to get up to.
“Here, try one of the wings.”
She swipes at a tear under her eye before reaching forward to pick one up.
I realize my mistake three seconds later when she lets out a deep moan of approval, even going so far as to shut her eyes momentarily.
My cock stirs in my pants as my mind pictures her making that same face but with her lips wrapped around my dick. I subtly attempt to adjust myself before grabbing a wing of my own, trying to get my head out of the gutter without her noticing.
“You were right. These are great. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this place before.” She polishes off the wing and quickly picks up another. “This makes up for missing the food at The Brass Stop.”
“Glad you approve.”
“Mhm,” she hums in agreement. “Any other speakeasies you recommend?”
“Is that your way of asking me on a second date?”
“I–No–This–This isn’t a date.”
“Sure, sure. It’s just two strangers eating wings, sipping cocktails, and secretly pining.”
“I am not pining.”
“No? Just me, then?”
She narrows her eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Why would I do that?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I’m still a little sensitive about the whole failed-date situation.
I have a bad habit of trusting men too easily.
Of letting them lead me on. I open up and pour myself out, not really hiding much.
My roommate says it’s both a strength and a weakness.
Given my track record, I’m starting to doubt that it’s a strength at all.
Ugh, I’m doing it again. Running my mouth for no good reason.
I’m sure the last thing you want to hear is me complaining. ”
“I don’t mind.”
“Really?” Her tone is doubtful. “You want to hear me lament about my failed love life?”
“No one has a perfect love life.”
Least of all me.
“My parents do. They’re college sweethearts.”
“No way. Mine are high school sweethearts.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup.” I take a swig of my cocktail. “They’re the epitome of love. To have a relationship like theirs is the gold standard.”
It’s the truth. I’ve always looked up to my parents and their relationship.
How they met in high school, fell in love, and lasted throughout the years–even with all the crap my sister and I pulled growing up.
They stayed together through thick and thin, an anchor for one another as the storms tried to pull them apart.
Watching them as a kid made me believe that’s how all love was supposed to be.
That you would find the person whom you were meant to be with on the first try, that they would be your soulmate and you would experience all of life’s firsts together.
It had turned me into a hopeless romantic, blindly devoting my everything to the first girl I ever dated. And that had been my downfall.
“I think of my parents in the same way. They are such goals. I want to find a partner who is my best friend like they did. Which is why it’s so frustrating that it never works out.
I’m not old or anything, but I thought my love life would’ve gone differently by now.
That I’d have found my high school or college sweetheart.
Instead, I’m just another single in the city. ”
“I get that. I expected to follow my parent’s path as well.”
I’d tried, but where they succeeded…I failed. Epically.
“This might be getting too deep for two strangers at a speakeasy, but we’re already this far, so screw it.” She finishes off her drink and then angles herself toward me. “Top three things you look for in a partner.”
I open my mouth to respond but she quickly raises a finger and cuts me off.
“Nonphysical traits. You can’t weasel your way out by saying big boobs and a nice butt.”
She does have a stunning rack.
I rest my elbow on the arm of my chair, leaning into her space. “Why, are you interested?”
She purses her lips. “Don’t deflect. Come on, Cullen. Play the game. Please.”
Well, when she asks like that, how can I say no?
“Top three things that aren’t physical.” I give it a second to think it over.
“Okay, this might seem basic but someone who is genuinely kind. There’s nothing worse than surrounding yourself with malicious people.
Second, they have to be passionate–and don’t give me that look, I don’t mean sex.
I mean a hobby or their career, something they love.
Although, passionate sex is a bonus.” I wiggle my brows, and she playfully rolls her eyes.
“Lastly, someone who won’t stop me from achieving my goals or be upset at my achievements.
I can’t be with someone who is afraid that my success means their own is negated. ”
Everything I said has a deeper meaning, but that last one is a little too specific, and I see the way Verity ponders it.
“I’ve never thought about something like that before, but it makes sense. If I had a boyfriend who got upset at my career growing, especially at a faster rate than his, it would make me feel like crap. I’d probably worry all the time or sabotage myself.”
“Exactly. It’s the kind of thing that would eat you up inside.” It is reassuring to hear her view, and it calms something inside me that I hadn’t been aware had been brewing. “What about you? What are your three things?”
“Easy. One, words of affirmation are a big thing for me. I’m a bit of a talker, if you haven’t noticed, so I need the verbal reassurance.
Second is quality time–I love going out on dates, but even just hanging out and cuddling or walking to work would be cute.
And third, they have to make me feel special.
I’m not saying I need to be a saint they worship at the altar of, but I want to know that I’m important to them.
That they think about me when it comes to the little things.
” She snaps her fingers. “Oh! I know we said three, but they also have to like sweets. I think I would be depressed if I dated someone who hated ice cream.”
“You’ve clearly thought about this.”
“Once or twice. I’m sort of a hopeless romantic.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Really?”
“What? You think I’m not?”
“I don’t know. I’m a little jaded at the moment. You could just be all talk.”
“Guess you’ll have to get to know me more. Nothing a few dates wouldn’t fix.”
“I didn’t peg you as such a softie. You seemed like one of those flirty finance bros.”
My upper lip curls slightly. “God, don’t loop me in with them.”
“So, are you saying you believe in finding your soulmate and not just the next best bang?”
“Next best bang?”
“Yeah. My roommate lives by the mantra that men in the city are always on the hunt for the next best bang.”
“Your roommate sounds like an interesting person.”
“She’s a riot, unlike anyone you’ll ever meet. But you didn’t answer my question.”
Do I believe in that? Soulmates?
I thought I did, once. I’d become enamored and obsessed, making that person my entire life.
That’s the way I love–completely and without hesitation.
I pour my entire soul into loving the person I am with, but I’d poured myself into a person who bled me dry until there was nothing but a husk left of me.
I look at the way Verity’s eyes seem to sparkle in the amber lights, how her cheeks have this pink flush that’s gotten deeper as the night has worn on. Despite being stood up by her date, she has this pure belief in love that reminds me of myself before my ex stomped on my heart.
She’s like a kindred soul, and when I look at her, I want to open myself again. I want the chase and capture of an obsessive love. I want that again, and I want it to work this time.
The person I’d thought was my soulmate turned out not to be, but that doesn’t mean that person isn’t still out there…or right in front of me. I am making so many changes in my life right now; I’m moving forward and finally putting the past behind me. Why not give love a second shot while I’m at it?
“Yes. I do believe in soulmates.”