Vanessa hadn’t heard every word of their conversation.Some parts had been inaudible, muffled by laughter, spoken in a volume that varied.“You look like your brother,” she said, pointing at Paul with her toothpick.
“Hmm.”
“Do you compete over women?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You wouldn’t say anything.”
He didn’t disagree.
She ate the second olive, her eyes narrow.“Why do you avoid bunnies?”
“Bunnies?”
“Don’t play dumb.Your brother told me what it means.You two were talking about it right before your wrestling match.”
He raked a hand through his hair, flustered.“My brother isn’t a reliable source of information.He’s still in love with his ex, and he’s incredibly bitter about women.Disregard anything he told you.”
The waitress reappeared with a dessert menu.
“Strawberry cheesecake,” Vanessa said.
Paul asked for the check.Maybe he was afraid she’d order another martini if they stayed much longer.
“I have a theory about this bunny stuff,” she said.“You watched your brother go through a nasty divorce while you were both mourning the sudden deaths of your parents.You weren’t able to prevent the accident, or its fallout.Now you’re afraid of commitment because of your tragic family history.”
He showed no reaction to her psychological evaluation.The waitress brought the cheesecake, and the check.
“Was your last girlfriend a bunny?”she asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She wasn’t looking for a husband.”
“Neither am I.What’s the difference?”
Paul shrugged.Vanessa took a bite of cheesecake, and a snippet from last night’s conversation floated back to her.Kyle’s voice had been muffled, nearly unintelligible.Suddenly, the words fell into place.
She was never going to leave her husband for you.
“She was already married,” Vanessa breathed.
Paul’s jaw hardened at the statement.He didn’t deny it, and she felt the icy slap of shock.He’d been involved with a married woman?What was wrong with him?She gaped at him for several seconds, unable to fathom it.
“Wow,” she said, putting her fork down.“I can’t compete with that, can I?What a perfect partner for you.Unattainable, exciting, off-limits.No chance of her hearing wedding bells or harboring expectations.”
“Do you really want to discuss this here?”
“I’m sure you don’t want to discuss it anywhere.”
“You’re starting an argument.”
Her cheeks burned with indignation.Then a cold calm settled over her.This was fine.This was what she wanted—a no-strings affair.She could have hate-sex with him and flush him out of her system.
“My mistake,” she said.“Arguing is what people in relationships do.We can’t let that get in the way of fucking.”
