Dating Games(34)

“Why? Am I teasing you?” I bat my lashes, thankful for the flirtatious atmosphere between us once more.

“You have no fucking idea.”

The tone of his voice hits me deep in my core. As much as I want to tear my eyes from his, I’m unable to, the tension cracking and sizzling. Why don’t I remember it being like this with Trevor?

“So…” I clear my throat, my brain finally communicating with the rest of my body to look away from Julian before I throw myself at him without a single regard for the fact we’re in public. “Getting back to why we’re here.”

“Yes?”

“Why me? Especially considering you know I’m not exactly over my ex.”

“That’s one of the reasons,” Julian answers nonchalantly. “Less drama. Less headache. I get the pleasure of the company of a woman who’s familiar with what it takes to be in a committed relationship and will be able to sell the idea that we’re in one. And I won’t have to worry about you wanting more than I’m willing to give.”

“This begs the question of why you need to pretend to be in a committed relationship. Why aren’t you in one? You’re not one of those guys who thinks it’s his civic duty to screw as many women as possible, yet refuses to commit to anyone, are you?”

“Certainly not,” he answers with a chuckle. “I’m just not interested in a relationship.”

“At all?” I arch a brow. It reminds me of Chloe’s take on relationships. Maybe I should suggest they get together since it seems he has more in common with her. “Life is full of relationships,” I continue, pushing down the jealousy bubbling at the idea of Chloe and Julian hooking up, “even if they’re not the intimate type. You appear to be rather successful in whatever it is you do. You don’t get there unless you build business relationships.”

“That’s different. We leave all emotions out of things to get the job done. It’s not personal.”

“So you’re just not interested in a relationship that requires you to get too personal.”

His expression pensive, he considers my statement for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I suppose that’s correct.” He brings his fork to his mouth, taking another bite of his lamb.

“May I ask why?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

I sigh, lifting my glass. “Then I suppose you’ll have to find someone else to be your fake girlfriend.”

His gaze turns steely, his jaw tightening. I’ve hit a nerve. “Suffice it to say, I don’t buy into the requirement that in order to be happy, you have to be in a relationship with someone. Some people aren’t cut out for that.”

“And you think you’re one of them?” My voice is timid as I press on. The more I do, the greater the chance he’ll walk away.

“I know I am. And that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

Silence falls between us, awkward and stiff. It’s the most distant I’ve felt around him since we met. In an attempt to ignore it, I push my food around my plate, my appetite disappearing.

“As far as the other reason…”

When I hear him speak again, I lift my eyes to meet his. “Pardon?”

“I said one of the reasons you’re perfect for this is that I don’t have to worry about you falling for me. But there’s more.”

“And what’s that?” My heart drums in my chest, his tone a stark contrast to the anger with which he spoke mere seconds earlier. I marvel at his ability to flip the switch so quickly.

With extreme grace, he swirls his wine before bringing it to his mouth. My eyes instantly focus on his lips. I’m mesmerized by everything this man does. I should find comfort in the fact nothing will ever happen between us. Hell, these were my conditions, after all. Regardless, a twinge of disappointment settles in my heart at never knowing him on a more intimate level.

“There was something in your voice as you informed the entire bar of your breakup. I can’t quite explain it. After twelve years, you’d think there would be anger, sadness, disappointment. But there was something else instead.”

“Sarcasm?” I offer, recalling the bitterness that prompted me to share my heartache with complete strangers. I’m sure the alcohol didn’t hurt in that regard, either. No need to give me a truth serum. Give me a shot of tequila and I’d tell you the location of Jimmy Hoffa…if I knew it.

“That’s not it.” He shakes his head. “I heard hope.”

“Hope?”

“Yes. And determination. Your ability to find humor about what could only be described as one of the most heartbreaking events of your life shows your strength of character. You didn’t go home, watch When Harry Met Sally, and gorge on Ben & Jerry’s.”

I scoff, “Not by choice.”

He studies me for a moment before speaking again. “I think it was. I may not know you as well as Chloe or Nora, but I’ve picked up on a few things. One of those is you only do what you want. If you didn’t want to spend time with me, you wouldn’t be here.”

I lower my eyes, not wanting to acknowledge his statement bears a hint of truth. Two days ago, I never would have expected to be sitting here with him in this restaurant while Trevor looms a few tables away. Now I’ve barely thought of Trevor, all my focus on Julian. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.