Page 42 of Playing Mr. Perfect

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not bad, but it’s definitely a thing. You’re persistent and very convincing. I feel like a rebel around you.”

I laugh and reach for her hand as we stroll down the busy sidewalk, but she moves it out of reach. As cute and amusing as that was yesterday, it kind of sucks now.

“Pepper, it’s just us, remember? Your family left. There’s no one to hide from.” She sent her siblings a text early this morning saying she was off to the airport, and we waited until they left the hotel to move her things into my suite.

“Sorry.” She slips her hand into mine. “I told you I don’t have experience with flings. I don’t know the rules.”

I haven’t held anyone’s hand in so long, I’m struck by how good it feels to hold hers and how perfectly our hands fit together. Just like our bodies. Jesus, she’s really messing with my head. I never think about that stuff, and with her, I can’t stop. “I don’t think this is a typical fling, so how about we make our own rules?”

“You must do this a lot to have a comparison. Which begs the question, if I’m your European fling, do you have flings by country, state, or…?”

“Don’t do that.” I squeeze her hand.

“What? It’s a fair question.”

“It is,” I admit. “But don’t put me in a box like that.” I stop walking to explain. “I played around a lot and earned that reputation when I was in my early twenties, but I’m thirty-five, Pepper. Give me some credit. I’m not a sex-crazed kid without a conscience. A lot of those rumors are based on fiction, not facts, stemming from someone seeing me out to dinner with a woman, or talking to someone at an event. Neither of which means I slept with them. I’m not saying it never happens, but it’s not as often as you think. Those encounters have been few and far between for a long time. I spend a hell of a lot more time with my buddies and my family than I do with random women.”

She studies me in silence.

“It’s true, Pepper.”

“I believe you. I was just thinking that it must be difficult to overcome a reputation like that.”

Relieved, I say, “I don’t really care about it most of the time. But I do where you’re concerned. So if you have any other questions about my past, let’s get them out of the way now.”

“I am curious about whether you’ve had any long-term relationships.”

We start walking again. “I’ve had a couple that lasted for more than a few dates, but nothing I’d call long-term. The game has always come first, and that doesn’t fare well with women who want my attention.”

“I can understand that,” she says as we cross a street. “It would be hard to compete with your love of the game.”

“I guess I always figured with the right woman, there would be no competition. How about you? I know you don’t do flings, but when was your last long-term relationship?”

“Oh, gosh. Forever ago.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “I’m busy, and relationships take time and attention.”

“Does that mean you don’t date often?”

“Not very. I’m sure you can tell by now that I’m not exactly the kind of person who goes out looking for guys.”

“Sure, but what about dating apps?”

“My sisters made me try them, but I didn’t like it. There’s a lot of pressure that goes along with those apps. They’re very looks oriented. I know I’ll never be the prettiest girl in a room, but I might be the smartest, and you can’t tell that from a dating app.”

I stop walking and draw her into my arms. “That’s the second time you’ve said something about not being beautiful, so I’m making our first fling rule. No negative self-talk.”

“It’s not negative self-talk. I just accept the truth. I grew up with gorgeous sisters, remember?”

“That’s your truth, Reckless, not mine, and I can assure you, it’s not a million other guys’ truths, either. Guys have been checking you out everywhere we’ve gone. But that’s beside the point. Negative self-talk affects everything you do. Imagine if every time you worked on a project, you told yourself you wouldn’t do a great job before you even started.”

Her expression turns serious. “I’d never do that.”

“Exactly. So don’t plant those seeds in your brilliant brain about your looks. When you walk into a room, you’re all I see. You have been since the first time I set my eyes on you.”