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“Oh, I’m a total cat lady,” I assure him. “I have two now. But when I was a kid—”
“That’s great. I find a genuine connection with cats. And they gravitate to me. Of course, most everyone gets attached to me, human or animal.” There’s that plastic laugh again. “I must be an awesome guy.”
Did he seriously just say that?
I’m starting to think he’s more egotistical than insecure. And trying to manipulate me into validating that he’s interesting. In response, I merely smile.
“I’m enjoying myself tonight. It’s refreshing to find someone who’s such a good listener.” He clears his throat. “I’d like to continue getting to know you.”
What am I supposed to say to that? Somehow, I maintain my politeness. “I look forward to you getting to know me.”
Let’s hope you can focus on other people besides yourself.
He takes a big gulp of his cab. “Perfect. Maybe you’d like to…”
Walk around the park? Get ice cream? Go on another date? I’m not expecting the moon or anything, but I’d like to figure out if this evening has been a waste and I should write him off, or if there could be anything between us if I dug a little deeper. “What?”
“Take this party elsewhere. Maybe to my place?”
His question doesn’t register at first. Then I realize what he’s actually saying.
“I’m not really the type of girl who has sex on the first date.”
In fact, I’ve never understood the hookup culture. Why do people who refuse to open themselves up to anyone emotionally have no problem rubbing body parts with a stranger? Honestly, only valuing other people because they’re good in bed sounds cheap and empty. Lonely. How can “relationships” like that satisfy anyone? I’ve always imagined casual sex as the ultimate way to run from feelings, but no one can escape their emotions forever.
Can they?
“This isn’t a date.” His brows furrow in confusion. “If Adam didn’t tell Kami that, I’m sorry. But I’m not interested in dating. I thought you knew that.”
“Then what is this?”
“Us getting to know a bit about each other before we…spend time together.” He leans in. “You’re a beautiful woman, Kiera. We could have a lot of no-strings fun.” He licks his lips and caresses my hand, making circles across my knuckles with his fingers. “I’m glad I’ve got your number so I can call you whenever…you know”—he winks—“I have an itch to scratch.”
Eww. I need a shower.
“You’re saying you want to be friends with benefits?”
His smile widens. “You’re beautiful and smart. It’s my lucky night.”
Is he serious? I expected something a lot different, like more getting to know each other as people and maybe seeing if we could forge any sort of emotional connection. Despite the fact Chris and I have known each other for less than an hour, he wants to skip all that and get straight to the sex.
The balls on this guy.
I took time out of my life to go out with him, and I gave him my attention. And all he wants is a booty call?
No. This nondate is officially over. “I’m afraid I’m going to pass. I’m looking for a serious relationship.”
He rears back in shock, glaring as if he’s never heard those words come out of a woman’s mouth. “Why? Dating is like marriage; it’s oppressive. We’re young. We should be having fun. And I promise, you’ll have lots of fun with me.” He skims his fingertips across my hand, wearing a come-on of a smile. “Women always do.”
I withdraw my hand and try hard not to laugh. “Then you shouldn’t have trouble finding someone else. But I’m looking for a man to become a part of my life. I want him to care about me, not just for what I have to offer physically. I’m looking for marriage and children and—”
“God, no. Every woman I’ve gone out with has been happy with a strictly sexual relationship. If you’re not, you’re too uptight for me,” he says as if he were scrolling Tinder, decisively swiping left. “We’re done here.”
I should get up and walk out, but I feel compelled to give him my two cents. “Oh, we totally are. I refuse to be a man’s plaything. I’m worth way more than that, and I have self-respect. Why are you even mad at me? So we don’t want the same thing. Fine. No harm, no foul. We’ll go our separate ways.”
He tosses his napkin on the table. “Right now.”
What a douche. “If tonight wasn’t a date and all you wanted was sex, why did you invite me to dinner here?”
