Page 21 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
She rolled her eyes. “How many times has he been carded when you’ve gone out?”
“Every time,” I admitted. “But when he’s in his fifties that’s going to be a good thing.”
“Right. The point is, you’d rather waste your time going out with guys you havezero interest inthan take a chance on a hot guy you might actually like.”
“I like Kevin and Henry. They’re… nice.”
“Nice. You need to put on your big-girl panties and take some risks, Scarlett, or you’re going toniceyourself into spending your life with the world’s most boring guy. I’ve never seen anyone less excited than you are after you go on dates with these guys. That’s not what you really want.”
I plopped onto the couch beside her and pulled Hemsworth into my lap for a snuggle. He was a fluffy white Himalayan with blue eyes and the cutest little flat pink nose.
“And what do I really want, pray tell?”
“Besides to steal my cat? You want what all of us want—someone who’s your equal, someone who’s a challenge but also an ooey gooey delicious cinnamon roll. You want someone to thrill you.”
“What Iwant—other than to steal your cat—is someone honest—completely transparent, someone I can trust to stick around instead of bolt for the door the first chance he gets. If that means he’s a little boring, then so be it.”
“Well in that case you’re on the right track.”
She held her arms out, and Hemsworth left my lap for hers. Even he didn’t want to stick around.
“Neither Kevin nor Henry wouldeverleave you because they’d literally have no other options,” she said. “And yet… you haven’t gotten serious with either of them—or withanyonesince Bryce.”
I held up my hand palm out. “I don’t want to talk about Bryce. I thoughthewas nice and safe—and look where that got me. That’s why I’m taking my time, making sure I’m sure I’m sure. You have to date someone for at least a year before you can evenbeginto crack the surface of who they are, you know. Two years is better. Even then you never know—they could still end up deciding you’re not worth staying for.”
“If you say so,” Julianna said.
“I do. Trust me, I know.”
After Bryce I’d come to doubt my ability to recognize a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It didn’t help that I’d followed upthatmistake by immediately making another one—agreeing to spend my non-honeymoon week with someone who actuallycalledhimself Wolf.
Admittedly, it had been an amazing week.
The problem came afterward, when I couldn’t stop thinking about him and literally could do nothing about it.
Which led to my other dating rule—no casual sex.
Clearly, I was one of those people who just couldn’t handle it. After only a week with Wolf, I had become unnaturally attached to him—or at least to his memory.
Even though we’d agreed not to exchange names or contact info unless we fell madly in love, it hurt to wake up one morning toward the end of the week and find him gone, nothing but a short note left on the pillow to remember him by.
Did I keep it? Yes, but only as a reminder of how foolish I’d been.
Anyway, the no-names policy was probably for the best. I hadn’t been myself that week, wild and uninhibited and living out every sexual fantasy I’d ever had with a guy I barely knew.
Though I couldn’t help revisiting those moments of forbidden pleasure from time to time, it kind of embarrassed me to think of them now. That week had been a feast for the senses. Since then, I’d been on a romantic starvation diet.
“Isn’t dating supposed to befun, though?” Julianna asked. “Isn’t there supposed to be, you know, chemistry?”
“It can be sometimes, sure,” I agreed.
Though I had no idea what Wolf’s real first and last name were, his middle name haddefinitelybeen Chemistry. I’d felt it that first night in the hotel swimming pool, and it had only gotten stronger and more addictive as the week had gone on.
“But that’s not what you want in the long term,” I said. “Chemistry, the ‘spark,’ the shivers—all those things are your body’s response to danger—they’re warning signs. Besides, that’s not real life.Reallife can’t be that exciting and fun and pleasurable.”
“Okay then, if you really want a spark-less, shiver-less, unsweetened oatmeal life, then there really isn’t a reason not to go out with Kevin again.”
“Exactly,” I said, feeling like I’d somehow won the argument without actually winning.
