She shook her head. ‘Romance.’
‘A romance about a serial killer?’ Several things weren’t making sense in my head.
‘A sexy serial killer who will do anything to protect the sweet, innocent girl next door.’ She took a sip of her drink. I forced my concentration to focus on the conversation, not on the way her lips wrapped around the rim of the glass.
Shifting in my seat, grateful for the table and the semi-darkness to hide my current predicament, I cleared my throat.
‘Isn’t the very essence of a serial killer that they kill people? Why doesn’t he kill her?’ I leaned back against the back of the booth, stretching my arm out. My fingers wereinches from her bare shoulder. Her face was lit up in a red glow from the dim lamp on our table.
‘Because he’s in love with her,’ she spoke like it was the most normal thing in the world.
‘Does he stop, you know, serial killing for her?’ On a list of bizarre first date topics I’d ever discussed, this one went right to the top.
Her lips parted in a smile, seeing my attempt to engage in a subject so out of my depths.
‘The one I’m reading right now, no, he doesn’t.’ Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
‘Why doesn’t she go to the police?’
Blonde hair spilled over her shoulder as a laugh shook her frame. ‘I’d say it has something to do with the orgasms. They usually love hard and fuck harder in dark romance.’ A glint of mischief entered her ocean eyes, tempting me down this dangerous path with her. Rosie enjoyed making other people uncomfortable. Unfortunately, her attempts to dissuade me from this conversation were to no avail.
‘Sounds… confusing.’
She laughed lightly, giving a half shrug. ‘It’s my favourite genre of romance.’
Sitting in a dark room, inches from the most beautiful woman I’d ever met, was a recipe for disaster. In the back of my head, I reminded myself that this wasn’t real—no matter how real it felt—I was helping her win a bet. This was date one. Four more to go. And for those, I’d definitely go for something less sexy. Maybe a picnic. Yeah, that’s a much better idea. The threat of a downpour as you sit on lumpy grass and try to avoid getting stung by wasps. No possibility of getting an erection in those conditions.
I swallowed, shifting the topic. ‘Can I ask you a personal question?’
‘We’ve already covered dark romance and my witchymother, I’d say you’ve earned one.’ She held up her index finger. ‘Only one, mind you. At least until I get another shot into my system.’
There was no way of phrasing the question I’d been burning to ask since I’d realised Rosie’s stance on men. But I knew I couldn’t go on another date without some answers. Spending time with her was like navigating a minefield. You never knew when one wrong step was going to blow up in your face. And I was about to jump feet first onto one I knew would shoot me several feet in the air.
‘Why do you dislike men so much?’
Her eyes snapped to mine. Surprised by the bluntness of my question.
‘I don’t dislike them.’ Her words said one thing: the stiffness in her shoulders and the steely glint in her eye, quite another.
‘Alright.’ I took a sip of my beer, hoping to gain some courage to not fucking regret opening my big mouth. ‘You might not hate them, but your opinion of them is scraping the bottom of the fucking barrel.’
Her eyes pinched slightly as she looked at me, searching for something in my expression. After a while, she shrugged. ‘I’ve yet to meet one that is more than their base instincts and doesn’t act like the thing between their legs grants them untold superiority.’
I raised my eyebrows.
Her tone gentled. ‘Present company excluded.’
‘Glad to know I rank higher on your scale.’
‘Just a little. Don’t let it go to your head.’ The twitch of her lips sent a surge of warmth through my chest. Every smile, every laugh, I wanted to treasure like gold dust.
‘My question is why?’
A shadow passed over her face. For a split second, an emotion that sent my stomach roiling darkened her eyes.
‘I don’t owe you that information.’ Her tone was firm, unyielding.
‘Can you see yourself trusting me one day?’ It wasn’t a leading question, and based on the way she tilted her head to consider it, she knew that.
