“It’s weird because I can’t picture him with anyone except my mom.”
“Yeah, they’re cute together.”
“My mom is hot, huh?”
His eyebrows furrowed.
“Come on, it’s fine. She totally is. When we go out, she still gets offers—by guys my age.”
“No comment.” He grinned and took a drink.
“She’s a fox.”
“I’m not checking out my boss’s wife.”
“Oh, so it has nothing to do with me?” I asked with a laugh.
He grinned. “If you put me on the spot, I’m gonna tell you how it is. If you don’t want to know, don’t ask.”
“Alright. Who was a better lay? Me or Lydia?”
“Jesus, is this how you do dates?” he asked incredulously.
“I’m just curious. She had those knockers, so…”
He shook his head and took another drink.
“You aren’t going to answer?” I asked.
“You, alright?”
I brushed off my shoulder. “Still got it.”
He fished his hand in the basket and grabbed more fries. “What about me? How do I compare to that guy you were hung up on?”
“Hmm…kinda different.”
“I was different?” he asked in surprise.
“No. I just meant different situations.”
“How are they different? Was I better or was he?”
“I was in love with him, so…” I dropped my gaze and looked at the fries. “That would be like asking if I was better than your ex-wife. Can’t really compare the two because the circumstances were different.”
“I guess that’s true. How long has it been since you parted ways?”
“About a year and a half.”
“Surprised he didn’t come crawling back.”
“Psh. He gets more pussy than he can handle.”
“Quality over quantity. He’ll learn that eventually—and come back.”
“Better not,” I said with a scoff. “I’d punch him in the face.”
He grinned. “Good. Looks like I have no competition.”
“After last night…you definitely don’t.”
That grin widened. “Good. Because I’m not seeing anybody and have no intention of doing so.”
“Wait, is this already monogamous?” I asked in disbelief. “It’s literally our first date.”
“So?” he asked with a shrug. “Sometimes you just know.”
My heart skipped a beat at his choice of words.
He brushed it off by waving down the waitress to get the check. “You want to go back to my place?”
“I guess this date went well, then.”
He took the tab from the waitress and opened it in front of himself. “Well enough that we’ve already agreed to be exclusive.”
“Well, I didn’t technically agree to anything.”
“Then do it now.” He looked up and met my gaze, that intense expression coming into his gaze, wearing his bedroom eyes.
I was put on the spot, stuck in a fog, my heart stopping for just a moment. “Alright…I’m in.”
He looked down at the receipt. “So, how do you want to do this? I’m happy to throw down some cash so we can get out of here, but I suspect you’re going to pitch a fit, so you tell me how you want to handle it.”
“Wow, that was hot.”
His intensity dropped slightly, he was so caught by surprise.
“You can pay. You earned it.”
“Yeah?” He opened his wallet and put the cash down. “Why?”
“Because you didn’t do the check dance. You skipped the bullshit and asked me what I wanted to do.”
He closed the tab and set it at the edge of the table. “Let’s get out of here fast. I think I’m going to get some good P.”
“P?” I asked with a laugh.
“What? You can get some good D, but I can’t get some good P?”
We walked into a building I’d been in before and stepped into the elevator.
He stood beside me, his hands in his pockets, and stared ahead as the elevator rose.
“Looks like someone has his own penthouse…”
His reflection was in the doors, and he couldn’t suppress his smile.
The doors opened right to the living room.
I stepped inside and took a look around—because this shit was swanky. “Okay, I don’t want to be weird and talk about money, but…how?”
He chuckled and pulled out his phone and keys to toss them onto the coffee table. “I invented a couple things in college and patented them.”
“Like what?”
“Household stuff…cooking stuff…all kinds of things.”
“Wow, that’s so cool.”
“I think playing poker is a lot cooler, but thanks.”
I stepped farther inside and saw his big living room, which was large enough to entertain twenty guests comfortably. He had an enormous dining table and a full chef’s kitchen. It was a big place for one guy—but my dad had lived in a similarly large condo before he married my mom. “Now I understand why you don’t think I’m superficial.”
“Because I like nice things?” He turned to me, a slight grin on his face. “My inventions bring in the salary I rely on to fuel this lifestyle, and that allows me to pursue the things I really care about, like the clinic, research, education…all that stuff.”
“That’s hot.”
The grin reached his eyes. “Thanks.”
I moved through the penthouse and examined the couches. “Now I have to decide where I want to get laid. So many options.”