She sighed. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out I have more issues than TIME magazine. You know my history, or at least the major points. No need for all the sordid details. So I’m sure you can understand why I’m not lining them up in the dating department nor am I freaking out because I haven’t found my soul mate at the ripe old age of twenty-five. I figure if it does ever happen, I have plenty of time to figure it all out. For now I just concentrate on living. Surviving. Taking it day-by-day. It’s what has gotten me this far. If it ain’t broke, then don’t fix it.”
“Such cynicism and pragmatism from someone so young is astounding,” he observed. “You lay it out so casually, as if it doesn’t bother you one way or another, and yet there’s something there. Maybe others don’t see it. But I do. You want those things, Kylie. You just haven’t worked up the courage to reach out and take them. Nor have you admitted to yourself that you do have needs just like everyone else.”
“Do you have a degree in psychology or something?” she asked with narrowed eyes. “Because I swear you sound like a damn shrink.”
He chuckled and held up his hands in mock surrender. “Nope. Just observations on life and my experiences with people.”
“With women, you mean,” she muttered.
“That too,” he said, unruffled by her correction.
“Just how many women have you been with?” she blurted. Gah! There she went again. Just spewing stuff out without reason or thought. It made her sound like some jealous shrew. Quickly trying to cover up her gaffe, she amended her statement.
“I mean submissive women. Or have all of your relationships revolved around the dominant/submissive lifestyle?”
“I don’t keep count,” he said dryly. “There have hardly been enough to need a catalog. I’ve already told you I don’t fuck around nor have I fucked my way through countless women. I’m not that much of a bastard. I’ve had casual sex, yes. I’ve had relationships. More than five, less than a dozen.”
She blinked in surprise. “How old are you anyway?”
“Thirty-five. You look surprised. Why?”
She shook her head. “Most single thirty-five-year-old men have been with far more than a dozen women. It just surprised me, that’s all. I wasn’t judging you. Or condemning. I was genuinely curious about your relationships, and if you enjoy having a submissive woman, why then did those relationships end?”
“They weren’t the one,” he said simply.
His response puzzled her. “How do you know when you meet the one?”
He smiled then, his eyes warming, giving her that heady pleasurable glow that was ever present when he looked at her that way.
“I’ll know.”
She let out a snort of aggravation. This was a man who could well drive her crazy. Crazier than she already was. Vague. His words full of hidden meaning. Some innuendo she was supposed to catch on to. And maybe she was able to read between the lines but was too chickenshit to admit that or to venture into the area of understanding.
“So you believe in love and all that accompanies it? Undying loyalty, fidelity and trust?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
He seemed genuinely confused that she spoke so blithely of such an important issue. And she supposed it was important to other people. Just not to her. Love to her was a four-letter word and not the good kind. She’d seen the many manifestations of love in her lifetime and she wasn’t sold on the concept, even if her two best friends were disgustingly happy and head over heels in love with their husbands. She saw Chessy’s unhappiness and knew that love wasn’t a cure-all and that in fact, love was often a complication. It certainly wasn’t an inconvenience she wanted to suffer.
Love meant giving up the essential part of herself. Her trust. And that wasn’t given lightly to anyone. Loving someone meant making yourself vulnerable. It meant placing your emotional well-being into another’s hands. No thanks. She’d seen the turmoil Joss had suffered as she and Dash had struggled in their relationship. She saw the effects of love in Chessy’s eyes. Saw the hurt and pain brought to you by the letter L. Love.
She finally shook her head when she realized he was waiting for an answer to his question.
“I’m not saying I don’t believe in it, I guess. I mean obviously Joss loves Dash and he loves her. She loved Carson and Carson loved her. And while I know Chessy is currently unhappy, I do know that she loves Tate and that Tate loves her. But love is messy and complicated. It seems much simpler and safer to just avoid that kind of emotional entanglement.”