A small sigh slips through my lips. “I don’t know. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why I’m making it one.”
“Because you’re uncomfortable and I’ve just taken you by surprise.”
Settling back onto the couch, I prop my feet on the coffee table and lean over to get a closer look at my profile.
“Do you like it?” Aidan asks.
“Horseback riding?” I laugh as I say the words.
Aidan shrugs. “Good visual.”
“Aidan!” My voice is part shock, part indignation.
“It’s true, Nat.”
“I’m not doing this to attract a guy who only wants to meet me because he likes the visual of me bouncing up and down on a horse.” I almost cross my arms but catch myself. It’s a habit leftover from my surly teenage years, and I don’t care for it. Instead, I tuck one section of hair behind my ear and turn to face Aidan.
He looks at me, his expression challenging. “Don’t give me the same look I’m giving you. If one of us doesn’t cave, this becomes a stalemate. And that won’t work, because I’ve already watched the worlds longest movie. Which means you” —he points at me with one finger— “have to cave.”
My hair tickles my shoulders as my head shakes. “No to the horseback riding. It’s ridiculous and not at all true.”
“Fine. Perhaps you have a love of mechanical bull-riding.”
“No riding anything.” Does this man need to see an ear doctor?
Aidan navigates to the edit box and deletes the words. “I only put that in there to push your buttons.”
Reaching out, I grasp the skin beneath his upper arm in two fingers. He yelps and pushes my hand away.
“Do you want me to say that you’re a romance author? Do you want a real profile?”
This isn’t the way I pictured meeting someone, so I haven’t put too much thought into the amount of honesty in my profile. Don’t people usually lie on these things? Put your best foot forward and hide the baggage until you’re actually dating, right? Get them hooked and then unpack the bags.
“What are you thinking about?” Aidan asks. His head is tipped to the side as he watches me.
“How honest I should be.”
“Mostly honest, I think, if you’re not only using this for hook-ups.”
“I’m not.”
Aidan starts typing. Leaning over, I read as he writes.Author. Loves spicy Mexican food, beach vacations, and the Yankees.
“I don’t watch basketball.” I point needlessly at the wordYankees.
Aidan grimaces and opens his mouth, but I speak first. “I’m kidding. Of course I know the Yankees are a football team.”
I smirk as he levels me with a dirty look and leans forward, setting the computer down on the table and picking up his glass of wine. “Your profile doesn’t need to be completely true.” He taps his glass against mine and sips from it. “What do you want to do now?”
I’m only half-listening. I’ve just realized I’ve never seen that picture of me.
“Where did you get that?” I nod my head at the open laptop.
“I took it last year in the park.”
“I thought you were just pretending.” My voice is a murmur.
“I was, mostly. And then you did that smirky thing you do, and I took a picture.”
