I Flipping Love You (Shacking Up #3)(27)

He chuckles. “Good to know. So just dating then, or did you go with long-term?”

I hold my glass with both hands to keep from biting my fingernails. I feel far too exposed with this line of questioning. “I put dating.”

He quirks a brow but says nothing as he clicks boxes and makes selections.

“You should put athletic for body type,” I say, to be helpful.

“What did you put?”

“Average.”

Pierce’s gaze roams over me in a slow sweep. “There’s nothing average about you, Rian. Terry is average. You are spectacular. Too bad that’s not a category.”

I watch as he types in his profession, a little surprised by his response.

“You’re a lawyer?”

“I am.”

“But you own rental property? Are you a real estate lawyer?” My mouth is suddenly dry, and I try to tamp down on the panic. I don’t go by my given last name. It’s unlikely he’d be able to connect me to my father and the shitstorm he caused almost a decade ago, and Pierce doesn’t look old enough for that to be relevant. But still, it’s another potential red flag. In the past, when people have found out who our family is, it can be painfully embarrassing. Career-wise it could be damaging.

He laughs. “No. I’m a patent lawyer.”

That’s a relief. “Here in the Hamptons?” I wasn’t aware there was much to patent around here, except maybe boob jobs and collagen injections.

“No, I work out of Manhattan most of the time. It’s not a particularly riveting job. Mostly it’s a lot of paperwork and attention to small details. The rental properties are a hobby.”

“How do you manage a hobby in the Hamptons when you work out of Manhattan? That seems like a long commute.”

“I’m, uh, taking the summer off, so I’ll be back to boring patents in Manhattan soon enough. But I like working with my hands, so for now it fits.”

“If patents are boring, why are you going back after the summer?” I press.

Pierce rubs the blue-black nail with the pad of his thumb. “Obligation and financial security are the two primary reasons.”

“Ah, but if those two factors weren’t in the way, what would you do?”

“I’d create and fix things. As a kid, I was always taking stuff apart and figuring out how to put it back together, or making things out of other people’s junk. Drove my dad nuts, but I loved it. Still do, I suppose.”

I glance at his hands; the ones that did all the work on the rental. They’re nice hands, despite the nicks and scabs and the one black nail, or maybe that’s what makes them nice. “Well, you’re good with them.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” He winks, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re getting distracted.” I tap the edge of his phone.

“Right. Well, I think it’s almost pointless to finish. I already know what the outcome is going to be.”

“You think so?”

“Most definitely. The test will determine, without a doubt, that you and I are meant to be, and all this denying me the opportunity to take you on a real date is futile.” He focuses on the test again. “Describe my personality in one word?” He scrolls through the list. “Hipster? Princess? I’m at a loss here since they don’t have asshole as an option. Any suggestions?”

“Hmm, that’s tough.” I spin the stem of the glass. “What about professional, or athletic? Those fit.”

“Professional sounds too stuffy, like I sit behind a desk all day and tell people what to do.”

“Is that accurate?”

“Not currently, no. And athletic has other implications. I don’t want people to think all I want to do is go for runs and pump iron and look at my own reflection.” Pierce clicks animal lover.

“Do you have a lot of pets?”

“I have a rescue dog.”

“That’s sweet.”

“That’s me, sweet as pie.” He flashes a grin and moves on to intent. “Wow. So there’s a category for looking for marriage, huh? That must be for the superserious online daters. Don’t want to give any mixed messages, I guess. Is that what you picked?”

I shoot him a dirty look. “I put dating, but nothing serious.”

“Really? I would’ve pegged you more for a relationship kind of woman, not the casual hookup kind.”

“Guess you pegged me wrong.” He’s not wrong, actually. As much as I might like a boyfriend, I have some trouble staying in a relationship once I’m in one. Being open and honest with a background like mine proves difficult. The last serious relationship I had went up in a ball of flames when I stupidly trusted the guy enough to tell him things I obviously shouldn’t have. Hence, I want to date, but not get to the point where I have to share. Besides by putting “dating, but nothing serious,” I think it casts a wider net, even if I only date one guy at a time.

He moves on to the question about his longest relationship. I’m surprised when he scrolls to over three years. That’s a long time to be with one person. My longest relationship was almost two years, but that was in high school. Since then I haven’t made it past seven months. I wonder what happened to end his, and who initiated the breakup. I decide it was probably him. I imagine she wanted to settle down and he wasn’t ready to commit.