This time he let me move forward.
“Now you have to talk to me,” he said.
“No,” I retorted. “I don’t.”
“But you want to.”
“Look,” I said, whirling on him. “Just because I let you fuck me doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do!”
“I didn’t say it did!” He frowned. “I think it at least gives me the right to have you not think I’m an asshole.”
“I don’t think you’re an asshole.”
He moved closer. “Then what do you think I am?”
“I think you’re a man,” I replied, not caring if that offended him.
Dan didn’t look offended. He grinned. “Glad you noticed.”
I wanted to be angry with him. I wanted to feel disdain. Yet as I’d waited for shame or remorse in the bathroom, anger and disdain eluded me, too.
“Look,” I said finally. “We had a nice lunch—”
“We did.”
“And what happened, after—”
“Also nice. We forgot dessert.”
I paused. “But let’s not kid ourselves it was anything more than what it was. All right?”
“Elle,” Dan said seriously. “Why not?”
The bus stop was ten steps away, but I kept walking past it. He followed. I walked faster.
“Why not?” He asked again, softer this time, and reached to grab my elbow.
I didn’t pull away this time. I let him turn me. He put both hands on my elbows, holding me in place.
“Why not?
A thousand explanations raced through my mind, but only one slipped from my tongue. “Because it’s not what I do.”
“Take off your sunglasses. I want to see your eyes when you talk to me.”
I sighed, belabored, but complied. He met my gaze, searching my eyes like they held a clue, a key, a treasure map. His fingers curled on my arms.
“Why not?”
I could only stare at him for a long moment while traffic passed us by and birds chattered among the branches of a tree in springtime bloom. “I just don’t.”
“You don’t what?” The tone was gentle, the words nonthreatening, but I could give him no answer. “You don’t date?”
“No.”
He studied my face. “But you fuck in bathrooms.”
I jerked from his grasp and set my feet to the sidewalk again. “I’ve never done that before.”
This time I thought for sure he’d let me go. I made it to the corner before he reached my side again. I didn’t look at him.
“I want to see you again.”
I stopped, shoulders hunching in resignation that this conversation would not end until he was satisfied. “Why, Dan?”
“Because I didn’t get to see your face this time.”
Just like that, desire sliced me open like a samurai sword and left me gasping for breath. I hid it with a shake of my head and a scowl. He didn’t grab me to stop me this time, just murmured my name in a low voice that halted my feet as though I’d stepped in glue.
“Because you have the sexiest laugh I’ve ever heard in my life, and I don’t think I could stand knowing I’d never hear it again.”
Why is kindness so much harder to believe than cruelty?
I didn’t want to believe him. I wanted to think he was full of empty words. I wanted to walk away from him. I wanted all those things, but in the end, had none of them.
“I don’t date.” The reply sounded lame, even to me.
Dan grinned. “So we won’t date.”
“What,” I asked, refusing to smile though the corners of my mouth insisted on tilting upward, “will we do?”
“Whatever you want, Elle,” Dan said. “Whatever you want.”
Chapter 04
Whatever I wanted. An easy thing to promise, but not so easy to request. I didn’t know what I wanted. I only knew I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Marcy cornered me by the coffee machine. “Where’d you go on Friday? You ditched us!”
“I got a headache.” The lie tripped easily off my tongue. “You two were looking pretty cozy by the bar, so I just snuck out.”
She seemed satisfied with that answer, then prattled on about her night with Wayne. The cologne he wore. The brand of shampoo he preferred. The way he liked his eggs. She stopped midsentence to stare at me.
“What?”
I’d been transfixed by her commentary, but now I finished pouring my coffee. “Nothing.”
I didn’t want to tell her I envied her. I wasn’t sure I did. I’d been in love before, with disastrous results.
“Did something happen at The Blue Swan?”
I shook my head. “No. Should it have?”
“Hell, yeah.” Marcy tossed her blond hair over one shoulder. “It should have. Definitely. But…nothing? We lost you after you went to get the drinks. Thought maybe someone swept you away.”
“Oh.” My laugh sounded forced and lame. “Nothing like that, I’m afraid.”
She didn’t look convinced, but I didn’t give her any more of the story.
Dan didn’t wait to call me the way I had.
“Hello, Miss Kavanagh. Daniel Stewart calling.”
“Yes, Mr. Stewart. How can I help you?”
“I read a good review about the film showing at the Allen Theater this weekend. I’d like to make an appointment with you to see it.”
“An appointment?” He’d caught me washing dishes left over from breakfast. I cradled the phone against my shoulder while I swirled a soapy sponge over my bowl and rinsed it.
“Yes. I believe you said you didn’t go on dates.”
“I said I didn’t date. Not that I didn’t go on dates.”
“Ah.
