“What are your boundaries?”
Good question. “Well, I would have said going home with a stranger and spending the night in his bed was a boundary.”
Another chuckle caressed my eardrum like the softest patch of velvet. “Probably a good one to have.”
“How about you?”
“Same as yours, apparently. I don’t bring strangers home to my bed, either.”
Really? “Not a one-night stand kind of guy?” As soon as the casual question left my mouth, I wanted to chase after it and stuff every last word back down my throat. I didn’t want to know a single detail about Nash’s sex life.
“Actually, I prefer them. Just not in my own bed.”
Not fair. Now I needed to know more. “So, you only go back to their place? What if your one-night woman has a roommate?”
“Oh, I don’t go back to their place either. Too personal.”
I was stumped. “Where—? Ew. Please don’t tell me I was just driven home in your mobile bachelor pad.”
This time Nash’s laugh was more like a bark. Nice, but I still preferred his throaty chuckle. “Of course not. I keep a suite at the Ritz-Carlton, downtown.”
“That gorgeous apartment of yours and you rent a hotel room?”
“It’s a suite. And it’s just as nice, I assure you. Would you like to see it? I can take you there tonight, after our dinner.”
“We’re not having dinner. And I’m not going to be your next one-night stand, either.”
“Why not?” Nash’s question was nonchalant, as if arranging for sex was no more important than meeting up for a quick cup of coffee.
“Why don’t I want to be the next notch on your bedpost? Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“No notches, although I won’t judge if you want to make one.”
I sighed. “Nash, why are you pushing this? I think it’s pretty obvious I’m not your type.” His silence spoke volumes. “Right?” I pressed, needing verbal confirmation.
“How do you know that?” A stubborn edge underlined his question.
“How many women have you slept with in the past year?”
He laughed again, more of a chortle this time. I might have to start cataloguing all the different varieties he exhibited. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Okay then. In the past six months?”
“Nixie, come on.”
“Fine. New question. Can you name all the women you’ve slept with in the past month?”
There was a part of me that was cheering Nash on, hoping he wasn’t as big of a manwhore as I thought he was. But as the silence stretched on, I was forced to put down my pom-poms. “See, that’s why. I might not be looking for a relationship right now, but I don’t fill my nights with disposable men, either.”
Tara Leigh attended Washington University in St. Louis and Columbia Business School in New York, and worked on Wall Street and Main Street before “retiring” to become a wife and mother. When the people in her head became just as real as the people in her life, she decided to put their stories on paper. Tara currently lives in Fairfield County, Connecticut with her husband, children and fur-baby, Pixie.