"Rick-"
Rick held up his hand, cutting me off. "Stop, I'm happy you agreed. Let's just leave it at that."
That night, we drove across town to a local chain restaurant. Rick seemed in better spirits, and I had to admit it was nice going somewhere besides his apartment. However, his mood shifted once we were seated.
"I would have taken you someplace nicer," he said, studying the menu.
"Why didn't you?" I teased.
"I only reserve the nice places for dates, and you made it clear this isn't one. So, since we're just co-workers, do you want to talk about work since that's what we did all day anyway?" His voice was low but the signs of hostility were clear.
"Not really."
"Well, we can't really talk about anything else since this is a co-worker get together. By the way, did you bring money?"
I stared at him, trying to understand the meaning of his question. "Yes, why?"
"Because, this isn't a date, so I just want to make sure you're not stuck here doing dishes."
I narrowed my eyes. "Okay, buddy, listen up. I have plenty of money. In fact, why don't we spring for an appetiser? I can cover you, Mr Cheapskate."
Rick laughed, ignoring our waitress who obviously heard my comments. "Do you need a minute?" Despite her discomfort, she was eyeing Rick like a sweet dessert.
We ordered our drinks, continuing to glare at each other. After the waitress had left, Rick threw down his menu. "You're calling me a cheapskate again? I prefer the other nickname, Marley."
I leaned into the table. "I should just call you Asshole, because that's what you're acting like. Why are you being such a jerk?"
He fisted his hands through his hair in frustration. "I just want you to admit this is a date."
"Why are labels so important to you, Rick?"
"Why aren't they important to you, Marley?"
"Not every girl has to have a definition for everything," I responded, strumming my fingers on the table in an effort to curb my annoyance.
"I don't think that's true. I think you're the rare exception to the rule. The thing is, I like your company. I like talking to you as much as I love fucking you. You make me laugh one minute and exasperate the hell out of me the next. For some reason, I don't mind. You know I'm leaving, but I don't think that's your hang up. I think you're scared to let anyone in too deep, and that's not a euphemism for anything else. Why is that, Marley? I would think it was me, but you're like that with all guys, aren't you? Well, except for Dillon anyway. You know what? I'm kind of jealous of him."
I sipped my drink, which had appeared out of nowhere in front of me. The waitress had left it and run off in the middle of Rick's rant. "Why in the hell would you be jealous of Dillon? You know he's gay, right?"
Rick laughed. "Of course I know. I'm jealous because he gets to see a side of you that I doubt I ever will."
I sat back, digesting his persuasive arguments. "Fine, you win. This is a date. Does that make you happy?"
He grinned, but shook his head. "No it doesn't make me happy, but it's enough for now."
"Since this is a date, I guess personal questions are acceptable, but I still get to pass." I folded my arms and leant back in the booth.
"Sounds good to me. Do you want to ask me anything?"
I cocked my eyebrows, trying to maintain an even tone, but each word had a bite to it. "Are you this fucking crazy intense with all girls?"
I could see the corners of his mouth threatening to curl into the wicked grin I usually loved. "Sorry for that, but to answer your question, I'm not. I was with Amanda for almost six months. I broke it off with her, and I didn't even think about it. It was easier than choosing what tie to wear."
"Why is that?"
"I think it's because of the way she treated you. I'd seen her be mean before, but I had a very hard time with the way she spoke to you. I know I'd have a difficult time if anyone treated you unkindly." The sweetness of his words silenced me. It was not something I'd expected him to say. Rick was definitely not a typical guy. He had no qualms about speaking from the heart. "Do I get to ask you something now?"
Oh boy. I shouldn't have started in on the personal questions. "I guess."
"Why did you refer to yourself as a slut the other night?"
I took another long swallow of my drink, pondering why he would ask me that question. "I guess because of the way I treat relationships. They're just sexual experiences for me, nothing more."
He nodded. "I don't think that makes you a slut. Guys do the same thing. In fact, I'd say it's not atypical."
"But not you, right? Not Mr Relationship?"
"No, not me."
"How many girls have you been with?"
He tilted his head as if he was calculating the number. "Eleven, including you."
"Seriously?"
"Why are you surprised? Were you expecting a higher number?"
I looked away shyly and said in a low voice, "You're just so good in bed, and I thought you were very experienced." I didn't add it, but the man was also very fine looking, and I was sure he could have his choice of female companion whenever he wanted it.
He laughed. "I'm not saying I haven't had a lot of sex, but I prefer quality not quantity. I don't think the number would even be that high if it wasn't for my work and travel schedule."
"Why, because you have a girl in every port?"
"No, because most girls can't handle what I do for a living. They can't handle the long-distance thing. Now, are you ready to answer the same question?"
"Pass," I replied in a low whisper.
He smirked. "You're passing? I think it's unfair that I answered honestly, but you're going to pass."
The waitress came over to take our order again. It was the third time she had come to our table, so it was probably best we ordered.
"How many chicken strips come in the appetiser basket?" I asked her.
"Three," she answered, not taking her eyes off Rick, who wasn't taking his eyes off me.
He was still waiting for an answer, so I gave him one. I turned to the waitress and smiled. "What a coincidence. That's exactly what I've had."
She looked at me with confusion, but jotted down my request. "For you, sir?"
Rick continued to stare as the comprehension of my statement fluttered through his handsome face. I'd managed to shock him into silence. "Rick, she's waiting for you."
"I'll have a hamburger," he replied, continuing to gape at me as he handed her his menu.
"Which one, sir? We have eleven kinds."
I busted out laughing, because that too was coincidental.
Rick didn't see the humour, though. "Whatever kind. You can pick."
"Do you want fries?"
"Yes, whatever it comes with would be great. Thank you." He didn't look at the waitress, but I did. She was a young, pretty girl with auburn hair and freckles. It appeared she had undone a few buttons from her shirt, revealing a hint of cleavage. She was obviously pissed off that Rick didn't notice her. Maybe she'd thought we were in a heated fight, and she could easily slip him her number. It was cute, but it didn't deter my thoughts of shanking her with my butter knife, if that was even possible.
When she left, I focused on Rick again. "Were you expecting a higher number?"
"Three? Including me?"
I nodded and he suddenly looked doubtful.
"But you said there were three in your rotation."
I glanced down shyly. "I guess you can say three and a half. One of the guys … well … He has never been able to go all the way."
Rick's outburst of laughter bellowed through the whole restaurant.
"Stop it!" I chided. "This is something I'm really embarrassed about."
"Why is that, Marley?" he managed to ask, between his laughs.
"I've always thought it was my fault," I said seriously.
He peered at me with hooded eyes. "Trust me when I tell you, it's got nothing to do with you. I love that you're so innocent." His words came out low, dripping with lust.
"You mean sexually?"
"No, baby, I mean about how desirable you are. His equipment doesn't work. It happens. It's nothing you did. There's something about you, Marley. It's more than just sex appeal, but I don't know exactly what it is. It's like you're a duality. You're sexy and innocent at the same time. You're girly, but tough too. You're intelligent about so many things, but … "
"Stupid?" I asked, too nervous to wait for him to finish the sentence.
He shook his head. "I was going to say misguided. You don't realise how much better you deserve." I looked away, not wanting to continue this conversation. I'd broken so many of my rules, but Rick was relentless. "You can't shut down on me now, Marley. I have to know."
"Know what?"
"How long have you been … rotating?" He was careful in his word choice. The man was smart because he was asking me an altogether different question, and he knew it. At least, he hadn't asked me the questions that would cause me to run out of the restaurant. He hadn't asked me when I'd lost my virginity, or why I'd chosen this lifestyle.