“My parents do. They’re college sweethearts.”
“No way. Mine are high school sweethearts.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup.” I take a swig of my cocktail. “They’re the epitome of love. To have a relationship like theirs is the gold standard.”
It’s the truth. I’ve always looked up to my parents and their relationship. How they met in high school, fell in love, and lasted throughout the years–even with all the crap my sister and I pulled growing up. They stayed together through thick and thin, an anchor for one another as the storms tried to pull them apart.
Watching them as a kid made me believe that’s how all love was supposed to be. That you would find the person whom you were meant to be with on the first try, that they would be your soulmate and you would experience all of life’s firsts together. It had turned me into a hopeless romantic, blindly devoting my everything to the first girl I ever dated. And that had been my downfall.
“I think of my parents in the same way. They are such goals. I want to find a partner who is my best friend like they did. Which is why it’s so frustrating that it never works out. I’m not old or anything, but I thought my love life would’ve gone differently by now. That I’d have found my high school or college sweetheart. Instead, I’m just another single in the city.”
“I get that. I expected to follow my parent’s path as well.”
I’d tried, but where they succeeded…I failed. Epically.
“This might be getting too deep for two strangers at a speakeasy, but we’re already this far, so screw it.” She finishes off her drink and then angles herself toward me. “Top three things you look for in a partner.”
I open my mouth to respond but she quickly raises a finger and cuts me off.
“Nonphysical traits. You can’t weasel your way out by saying big boobs and a nice butt.”
She does have a stunning rack.
I rest my elbow on the arm of my chair, leaning into her space. “Why, are you interested?”
She purses her lips. “Don’t deflect. Come on, Cullen. Play the game. Please.”
Well, when she asks like that, how can I say no?
“Top three things that aren’t physical.” I give it a second to think it over. “Okay, this might seem basic but someone who is genuinely kind. There’s nothing worse than surrounding yourself with malicious people. Second, they have to be passionate–and don’t give me that look, I don’t mean sex. I mean a hobby or their career, something they love. Although, passionate sex is a bonus.” I wiggle my brows, and she playfully rolls her eyes. “Lastly, someone who won’t stop me from achieving my goals or be upset at my achievements. I can’t be with someone who is afraid that my success means their own is negated.”
Everything I said has a deeper meaning, but that last one is a little too specific, and I see the way Verity ponders it.
“I’ve never thought about something like that before, but it makes sense. If I had a boyfriend who got upset at my career growing, especially at a faster rate than his, it would make me feel like crap. I’d probably worry all the time or sabotage myself.”
“Exactly. It’s the kind of thing that would eat you up inside.” It is reassuring to hear her view, and it calms something inside me that I hadn’t been aware had been brewing. “What about you? What are your three things?”
“Easy. One, words of affirmation are a big thing for me. I’m a bit of a talker, if you haven’t noticed, so I need the verbal reassurance. Second is quality time–I love going out on dates, but even just hanging out and cuddling or walking to work would be cute. And third, they have to make me feel special. I’m not saying I need to be a saint they worship at the altar of, but I want to know that I’m important to them. That they think about me when it comes to the little things.” She snaps her fingers. “Oh! I know we said three, but they also have to like sweets. I think I would be depressed if I dated someone who hated ice cream.”
“You’ve clearly thought about this.”
“Once or twice. I’m sort of a hopeless romantic.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Really?”
“What? You think I’m not?”
“I don’t know. I’m a little jaded at the moment. You could just be all talk.”
“Guess you’ll have to get to know me more. Nothing a few dates wouldn’t fix.”
“I didn’t peg you as such a softie. You seemed like one of those flirty finance bros.”
My upper lip curls slightly. “God, don’t loop me in with them.”