“Then show me. But first, we’ll order some food. I’m starving. You can deprive me of my date, but not my dinner.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I also blame you for the sex I have to forgo tonight.”
She suppressed a laugh and nodded. “Sounds fair.”
Because she was pining for it herself.
Chapter Eight
When at times things suck, it’s okay to live off ice cream, alcohol, and donuts and make questionable decisions. You can worry about your diet the next day.
From the self-help book for self-pitiers by psychologist Rachel James
Did you just call me questionable? - Connor
During the next hour, Rachel made three discoveries. First, food might actually be a worthy substitute for no sex. (Okay, that wasn’t true, but maybe better than sex with Phil would have been.) Second, Connor’s legs were too long. His knees kept bumping against hers, and the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing her bare skin drove her crazy. Third, there wasn’t a man in the world she would be less happy to showher Match Me! questionnaire answers to. Because they were…private. Intimate. Designed to evaluate someone as thoroughly as possible without an in-person interaction. She didn’t like that this allowed Connor to dig even deeper into her psyche, just as she didn’t like how easy it was for her to talk to him. That there hadn’t been a single awkward moment of silence during the last hour. That she might have been wrong in diagnosing him as an asshole and that he was simply a principled, cynical man as well as frighteningly direct and far too honest. She couldn’t say for sure yet, but men who bought you ice cream couldn’t be that bad. She hoped. Because as his gaze flew over the questionnaire on her phone, she became increasingly uneasy, especially because he seemed to raise his eyebrows in amusement at every other question.
“Okay,” he finally said solemnly. “I’ve practically won the bet.”
“What?” The statement shocked her so much that she dropped her ice cream spoon.
“Well, if you deliberately choose the wrong men, I have nothing to worry about.”
Oh, the guy was going too far. “You don’t know me, Connor,” she replied sharply.
“I know you better than this questionnaire,” he replied, unimpressed. “Seriously, who filled it out? It couldn’t have been you. What’s up with question one anyway?” He tapped the screen.
“Which one? I can’t read upside down!” she said, annoyed.
Connor stood and plopped down on the bench next to her.
His hip and thigh pressed against hers, causing her abdomen to contract. He was…close. But he didn’t even seem to notice.
“What’s the most interesting thing anyone might learn about you: You love cacti?”
“It’s an interesting fact!”
“I know three other interesting facts about you, and I’m not your date, by God!”
She snorted. “Is that so? Oh, please, tell me more about me. I’m burning with curiosity.”
“You use your smile for evil, convincing unsuspecting waiters to mix you drinks that aren’t on the menu. You make bets you can’t help but lose, just to defend your sister.” His gaze flicked over her face, lingering on her lower lip for a tenth of a second. “And a crease forms in your chin when you’re tempted to laugh but really don’t want to give me the satisfaction.”
Her heart fluttered, and she automatically brought her hand to her chin. “It does not.”
A knowing smile appeared on his face. “You’re biting the inside of your lip; it shows,” he whispered. “But it’s okay. Keep it a secret. Instead, tell me…why cacti?”
Her mouth was strangely dry, and she wished he’d stop smiling. Whenever he did, she felt a tingling sensation between her shoulder blades, as if she could feel his touch there. “Cacti are fascinating.”
Unfazed, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll have to take your word for it.”
Well, that was going too far! He could attack her chin, but not her succulents. Once he’d survived three months without water, he’d be free to make fun of any cactus that caught his eye — hopefully literally. But until then? “Oh, please. Do you have more interesting hobbies?”
Connor opened his mouth, then closed it again and looked away. “No, you’re right. Let’s move on.”
Wary, she studied his profile. Wait… “What exactly were you doing with the metal detector at the beach?”
“Checking if the pennies I swallowed as a kid were still in my system.”
She didn’t want to laugh, so she bit the inside of her lip to…oh, shit. He was right! Annoyed, she expelled the snort that was stuck in her throat. “Tell me.”
