Playing It Safe(36)

He licks his lips quickly to stifle a smile before he says, “Going straight for the jugular, huh?”

“I try,” I answer. “Plus I already know the basics.”

Alex chuckles and asks, “Like what exactly?”

“Well, let’s see.” I pause to take a sip of my wine. “I know you’re in your early thirties. You’re obviously very close with your older sister and niece, who, by the way, I might just steal for myself. You own the art gallery. Although, I’m not quite sure how that came about. You obviously travel quite a bit as evident by all the pictures in your house. And last but not least, you like to work out.”

His eyes glint with humor at my assessment of his life in less than eighteen seconds.

“Seems like you’ve got me all figured out,” he says.

“For the most part,” I reply coyly. “Just need you to fill in the blanks.”

“I’m thirty-three. I’ll be thirty-four in January, and we can discuss what I’d like for you to give me as a gift another time.” He says that last part so seriously and with absolutely no room for interpretation but keeps right on talking. “I only have one sibling, whom you’ve met, and yes, we are very close. You’ll have to go through me to steal Josie, and I’d really like to see you try. As for the art gallery, I bought it because I love art. I always have.”

He takes a small pull from his beer and smiles fully as if remembering something before he goes on. “My mom might have something to do with that though. She’s quite the art history buff and for as long as I can remember has been passing on all her knowledge to me and my sister, who’s a bit of an artist herself. She used to take me to museums, galleries, anything and everything that had to do with art. So when it came time to go to college, I majored in business with a minor in art history. Did I ever think I’d own my own gallery? No. But when the opportunity presented itself, I took it. My dad was a little upset at first since he thought I’d be taking over his construction business. But that just wasn’t me, even though I’d been working for him every summer for as long as I can remember. And as for traveling, yes, I’ve traveled quite a bit and try to get away at least twice a year.”

“So your family is close?” I ask.

“Very. Yours?”

“Very. Are your parents still together?”

“Yes,” he answers, dimples and all. “Yours?”

“Yup. Although, my dad retired recently, and I think my mom may have plans to kill him soon, so that is subject to change at any moment.”

Alex tosses his head back and laughs. Watching him like this, relaxed and having a good time with no pressure of the sexual variety, makes me less nervous around him. Although, seeing him laugh like that kind of turns me on too, so I guess I’m screwed one way or the other.


“That brings us back to Marisa,” I say nonchalantly and add a flirtatious wink of my eye for emphasis. “Which by the way, nice trying to get me to forget about that one.”

“I wasn’t trying to evade your question about her,” he says while motioning the bartender to give us another round. “There simply isn’t that much to tell.”

“You said that you take her out as a favor to your parents. That alone is enough material to work with. Why don’t you start there?”

While his upper body is partially turned to pay the bartender, I notice an eyebrow quirking up and all traces of humor leaving his face before he turns back around to face me. But it’s too late. I already caught it and almost regret asking about Marisa now. Well, not really because I’m kind of nosy, but still.

“Like I said, there isn’t much to tell,” he answers with a forced look of impassivity about him. “Her family has known my family for a long time. She’s been having a rough time lately, so my parents have occasionally asked me as a favor to them to take her out and show her a good time sometimes. That’s all. There is nothing else going on, and she is not my—”

“Girlfriend,” I finish for him.

He nods in agreement and then brings the beer bottle to his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so put off by your question.”

I wave a hand dismissively in the space between us. “No harm, no foul.”

“She’s really not so bad once you get to know her,” he says.

It’s killing me not to say anything in response to that. But somehow my big fat mouth stays shut and lets it slide … for now.

The rest of our date but not a date goes smoothly. Even though there is this underlying energy between us that is so palpable and you would have to be blind not to see it or sense it, it’s not making me as uncomfortable or anxious as before. So it would seem that my idea to get to know each other better was a success.

Before I know it, Alex is walking me to my car. His hands are in his pockets, and I steal a glance at him as I tuck a stray hair behind my ear, noticing the calmness in his eyes. When we reach my car, he holds the door open for me to climb in but doesn’t say a word. I guess I’m the one who’s going to have to say something since I’m the one who asked him to meet me here.

Sadie f*cking Hawkins is an *, if you ask me. Women aren’t built for this shit. I don’t even know what I’m expecting to happen. I made it perfectly clear that there were to be boundaries from the get-go. So why the hell am I standing here wanting to kiss him so bad that if I don’t, I’m going to punch something or somebody? How do men do this? How can they stand the not knowing of whether or not they’ll be rejected? It makes me have newfound respect for the species.