Chapter 3 #2
“I am,” I say. “Now, be very careful with your answer. I’d hate for you to lose points at this critical stage of the night.”
“No need to be careful, because I’m right,” he says.
“It’s a sandwich, in the sense that it’s in the sandwich family.
There’s meat and bread. However, it’s like a dolphin being a mammal.
Technically it is, but is that what you really think of when you say ‘name a mammal?’ No, therefore the answer is yes, but with a disclaimer. ”
I feel my mouth dropping. I didn’t know there could be a perfect answer to that question, but there it is. And not only is it perfectly worded, it’s exactly what I think.
This man is too good to be true. He’s so good that even the Katherine portion of my brain is starting to loosen the grip on her panties. And that never happens.
“I take it I didn’t lose any points?” he says with a smirk.
“I’m impressed.” I do my best to recover from my shock, but I don’t know if it works. “So you’re a piano-playing, trivia-winning, dancing king who, let me guess, volunteers on the weekends building houses?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “No building houses. But I do go to the animal shelter and walk the dogs there.”
Oh, fuck my life. If I see him with a puppy, I’m going to let him put it in every hole.
“Okay, then, what gives?” I ask, because Katherine is not going to let me sleep with him tonight if I don’t. “What’s wrong with you?”
He almost spits out his bite at my directness. “You really don’t pull punches, do you?”
“Never have, never will,” I say. “But I’m assuming if you’re at a speed dating event, you’re single. At least, I hope you are.”
“Very,” he says. “Cheating is an absolute no for me.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page about that,” I say. “Okay, so the question now begs to be asked, why are you single?”
I hate getting that question more than any others in the dating world. But I can’t not ask it tonight. This man is just too…I don’t want to say the word perfect, because no one is, but Grayson is inching damn close to that line.
“I’m honestly not sure,” he says. “I’ve dated some since I moved here. A few more serious than others. My motto is why waste time dating if you know it’s probably not going to be for the long haul?”
“I completely agree,” I say. “Time is a commodity. And in my world, you have to earn my time.”
“Exactly.” We’re both done with our hot dogs, which gives Grayson the opportunity to move closer to me, his arm naturally going around the back of the bench. “Plus, we’ve just been talking about our good qualities. We haven’t disclosed the bads yet.”
I know what he means, but the flirtatious tone of his voice is still making me think what he’s about to say are pink flags at best.
“You’re very right,” I say, wondering what I want to tell him about myself that’s true, but also not so much to scare him away. “Okay, I’ll go first. I don’t like outdoorsy things.”
This makes him laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind. No outside dates.”
“Well, not necessarily,” I say. “There’s a difference between outside and outdoors. Patio bars? Yes. Camping? No. Beaches? Yes. Hiking? Fuck no.”
He laughs. “I never thought there was a difference.”
“Oh, there is,” I say. “I like to say it’s the difference between outside-y and outdoorsy.”
He lets that sit for a second. “That actually makes a ton of sense.”
I smile, and gently bump his shoulder. “Okay, there’s one of mine. What about you?”
He brings me in a little tighter. “I have a habit of communicating in memes.”
“I don’t consider that a red flag. To me that’s almost a love language.”
“I’ll take that,” he says. “And I do need to admit, up until recently, I used two-in-one shampoo.”
I laugh under my breath, though I am glad he told me that up front because now I know I can shower at his house. “Please tell me you have a bed frame.”
“I do. But I don’t have any pictures in my apartment. Not for any other reason than I never remember to take photos.”
“Same,” I say. “I’m the worst.”
He smiles and digs his phone out of his pocket. “Well, then, we’re going to have to remind each other to capture the moments.”
He pulls me in, holding his phone up to get a selfie of the two of us. I’m leaned into his shoulder, head slightly tilted, and if anyone was walking by it would look like this is date one hundred, not number one.
Fuck, I really am screwed…
He puts the phone down, but neither of us move much.
I can tell the night’s coming to an end, but like before, I don’t want it to.
But the next step is to ask him to come back to my place, and I’m not going to be the one to bring that up.
I won’t say no if he does, but there’s enough of Katherine still controlling the wheel to let me know I need to pump the brakes, at least until I know we’re on the same page.
“I should tell you one more thing,” he says, his words barely a whisper as his hand rubs aimlessly on my arm.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t share.”
I sit up so I can look at him, because that one I wasn’t ready for. “You don’t share? Like food? Because that’s a good one to tell me, because I steal french fries regularly.”
He laughs, but shakes his head, as he brings me back in. “I guess the better way to say it is that I’m a pretty selfish bastard.”
Oh. That is a red flag. “How so?”
If he brought me in any closer, I’d be on his lap. Which I wouldn’t be mad about. Not in the least bit. “What I mean is, that when I'm with a woman, I want her all to myself. I don't like to share.”
I know what he said earlier about cheating, but just hearing the slight growl to his voice, and the octave that it dropped, I have a feeling he’s talking about more than monogamy. And while I agree with him, I still want to have some fun and rile him up.
“I heard sharing is caring.”
Grayson’s eyes heat at words. “I don’t share, Kat, but not in the way you’re thinking.
What I mean is that when I make a woman scream, yes, it’s for her.
Every time. But it’s for me, as well. Because there is nothing, and I mean nothing, sexier than watching a woman come apart because of me.
So when I say I'm selfish, it’s because I want it all for myself.
Every last drop. Every scream. Every breath. Just for me.”
Oh my…
I’ve heard of men like this. Though, I was beginning to think they were made up, like Santa Claus or Rudolph. He might’ve started this conversation about red flags, but if what he’s saying is true, the only flag anyone will be waving is a white one in surrender.
His fingers are slowly tracing the side of my cheek before pushing back a lock of hair. “That sound good, Kat?”
I nod, doing my best to gather my words when all I want to do is become putty in his hands. “It does. But I need some clarification.”
“Ask away.”
“I’m going to assume from this conversation, that you’re a giver,” I say as I let my fingers start aimlessly tracing up and down his arm. “The problem is, so am I. How’s that going to work? Because while sharing is caring, my love language is acts of service. And I really, really, love to serve.”
I know he thought he had me with his comment about not sharing. And don’t get me wrong, he absolutely did. But the way he’s looking at me right now? Lust and heat and desire pooling in his hazel eyes? I think I might’ve just been crowned the champ.
“Kat…”
Our foreheads are now touching. I could move ever so slightly and I’d feel his lips on mine.
And I want to, but not yet. Because if I start now, I don't know if I’ll be able to stop.
“Yes, Grayson?”
“Want to keep this night going?”
I love how this question has evolved over the night between us. I also love that we both know the answer.
“Your place or mine?”