Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Guess I had a type—the bad boy.
He swirled his glass and took another drink. “I’m not good at this sort of thing.”
“Having a conversation?”
“A conversation without a purpose. One that has no direction or agenda. I either tell people what to do, or…I tell other people what to do.”
“I get that,” I said. “Sometimes I wonder if my father suffers the same affliction.”
“Really? He seems chatty to me.”
“Romantically. He hasn’t had a relationship in a very long time.”
“He’s young. Still has time.”
“I’ve encouraged him, but he doesn’t seem interested.”
“It’s hard to open your heart to someone when there’s an endless line of warm beds.” He took another drink, and that was when the basket of bread was delivered. Quiet conversations happened around us. Utensils scraped against plates as people cut into their meals.
“So, you cook?”
“Yes. How did you know that?”
He hesitated as he looked at me, one arm resting on the tablecloth. “Your father mentioned it.”
“I recently got a new place that has a bigger kitchen, so I’ve done a lot of cooking. It’s a major time investment and the dishes are a pain in the ass, but there’s nothing like a home-cooked meal. Now that you’ve taken me to your restaurant, I’ll have to take you to mine.”
“You want to see me again?”
“Maybe,” I said noncommittally. “When we get back to my apartment, I can make us dessert.”
He stilled as he stared at me, his dark eyes locked on mine with a grip that wouldn’t release.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get serious with someone who was such a big player in the game. That seemed like a complicated relationship. When Axel and I had gotten together, we’d tried to keep it uncomplicated…but that wasn’t possible. But it’d been a long while since I’d had a good lay, and Theo looked like just the type.
He took another drink.
I expected some kind of reaction, but he didn’t give it.
Another bout of silence stretched, this one longer than the previous one. It lasted until our dinner was brought to us. He’d ordered the Florentine steak with veggies, and I had my lasagna.
We ate in silence.
“Are you looking for anything serious?” he asked out of nowhere.
I finished the bite I’d taken, thinking about the loaded question he’d just asked. “Not right now. I got out of a serious relationship six months ago, and…I haven’t been that motivated to get into another one.”
He chewed his bite as he stared at me, like he wanted me to go on.
But I had nothing else to say about Axel.
When Theo finished his food, he spoke. “How long were you together?”
“Like a month or two.”
“And you consider that to be a serious relationship?”
“I know how that must sound, but it was an intense relationship.”
“And it ended badly?” he asked.
I didn’t want to sound bitter and angry on our first date, so I preferred not to go into it. “Oh yeah.”
He continued to stare, like he wanted more.
“But that’s how it goes sometimes.” How people ended up married and happy was a fucking mystery to me. Axel and I had seemed like the real deal, and everything he’d said seemed genuine, but then he’d flipped on me so hard that the earth tilted.
“Are you over him?”
I released a laugh. “I’m definitely over that asshole.” I sliced my fork into the lasagna and took another bite.
“Because it’s fine if you aren’t.”
“I’m over him,” I repeated. “But he fucked me up pretty bad. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that part.”
He watched me, no longer interested in his dinner, only me.
“Some people can look you in the eye and lie straight to your face without skipping a beat. It’s hard to see someone’s true colors until it’s too late, until they already have a hold on your heart and not just your bed. All the things he said and did…made me feel like I actually mattered to him. But then he found someone else and didn’t even have the balls to tell me.”
“I’m sorry.”
I kept my eyes on my lasagna, slicing my fork through the layers. “Like I said, I’m over him. Just not interested in a relationship right now.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Come on. Why do you think?” I took a drink of my wine. “Look at you.”
This time, he didn’t smile.
“Wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.”
We entered my apartment, and he took a quick scan. “Nice place.”
“That’s nice of you to say.” He was richer than my father, so his place in Florence was probably a palace, and he probably had a beautiful apartment in Paris and a yacht parked in the harbor at Positano. I walked into the kitchen. “How about pistachio cannoli?”
He followed me into the kitchen and leaned against the island. “You can make that?”
“I can make anything.” I moved to the fridge and pulled out the bowl of cream. “I made the pistachio cream this morning. All I need are the shells.” I pulled out all the ingredients and got to work.