“You’re not going to like the answer.”
“If you tell me they never do, then—”
“No, no. The answer is... it depends.”
She rolled her eyes.
He laughed. “I told you you wouldn’t like the answer, but people are different. Some guys grow up early, and some guys never do. But at your age? It’s probably a crap shoot to find one who’s not still basically a kid.”
“Crap is right. I’m so tired of dating guys who still live like they’re in college and put more of their energy into gaming than anything else in their lives.” She hesitated, since she wasn’t sure if she wanted to share with Rick this next thing. Then she decided there was no reason not to. “Anyway, that’s my news. It’s actually an idea. A plan to improve my dating life.”
He’d glanced back toward his laptop, as if he was only half-interested, but he straightened up slightly at her last words. “Sounds intriguing.”
“It is.” She started to say the words, telling herself that he’d made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t interested in her romantically, so she had no reason to feel self-conscious about discussing her relationship issues with him. They’d talked about all kinds of things over the past twelve months—many of them personal. She’d told him about always feeling like an outcast growing up, and he’d told her about having a breakdown while working his first job at a D.C. law firm and having to quit and move back here to his hometown. He’d encouraged her a few months ago when her beloved grandmother died, and she’d given him advice about dealing with an ex-girlfriend who kept pestering him.
While he still acted slightly aloof and sardonic with her, he’d been as much a friend to her as anyone other than Britt and Megan.
Her infatuation with him was silly. Immature. It didn’t have to mean anything. She wasn’t a particularly reserved person. In fact, her friends affectionately teased her about being all out there, everything she felt bubbling up to the surface. So there was no reason to be uncharacteristically withdrawn with him.
She’d come to the resolution to tell him, but when she looked back at him, she found that he’d gone back to his work.
“If I’m interrupting you from your writing, you can just tell me.”
He blinked, as if he were surprised. “You’re not interrupting. You were thinking hard about whether you wanted to tell me your idea, so I was giving you some space.”
With a huff of dry amusement, she narrowed her eyes. “That sounds like an excuse. What are you doing anyway? Reading something?”
“I’m editing a chapter. I have to read it to discover what to fix.”
“You’re editing already? I thought you just started this book last month.”
He wrote science fiction novels. As soon as she’d met him, she’d looked him up and discovered that he’d already published twenty books and, although they didn’t appear to be major best sellers, they seemed relatively popular. Obviously they made him enough money that he could write for a living, so she found that rather impressive.
She’d been reading through his books for the past year. They weren’t her normal genre, but she liked them, and she liked the peek they gave her into the man.
“I did start it last month,” he replied. “I’m going over the chapters I’ve written.”
“Really? Why not keep writing more chapters and edit them after you’re done?”
He gave her a skeptical look. “I have my own process.”
“I’m sure you do. I was just asking.” Something about his expression gave her a clue, and she started to laugh. “Oh, I get it. It’s a method of procrastinating. Going back and working on the stuff you’ve already written instead of making yourself write new stuff.”
His eyes narrowed even more. “And how’s that chapter of your dissertation going?”
“Shut up.” She tried to look stern and disapproving but couldn’t hold back a giggle. “At least I have deadlines I set up with my dissertation director. I don’t know how you manage to write whole books without smaller deadlines along the way.”
“I make myself deadlines. But the problem is I can change the deadlines if I want. It’s basically a continual internal negotiation with myself to get anything done.” He was almost smiling now, like he was enjoying the conversation.
She was too. “I guess that’s why you work here. It’s easier than making yourself work at home.”
“Yeah. The slight distraction actually helps me. I find it harder to write at home where there’s nothing but me and all the work that needs to be done.” He glanced around the pleasant, half-empty room. “Besides, I like it here.”
Vivian smiled like he’d given her a personal compliment. “Me too.”
“But don’t think you’ve gotten out of telling me your news. What’s this big dating plan you came up with and can’t wait to share with your friends?"
"Oh." She flushed slightly, which was ridiculous. “Just an idea for not constantly dating annoying, immature boys.
“The most logical way to avoid this would be to not date immature boys.”
“That’s it exactly. I’m going to refocus my dating to older men.”
His eyebrows shot up sky high. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I’m going to try to date older men rather than guys in their mid-twenties. Maybe then I can find men who know what they’re doing and have their lives together. I want to feel like a partner and not a babysitter.”
He was laughing silently, so hard his shoulders were shaking.
“There’s no reason to laugh at me. What’s wrong with focusing on an older age range for potential dates?”
“So you’re really going to launch yourself at some old man who lives on a golf course with a healthy retirement account? The poor old sap won’t have a chance, the first time you aim those big, blue eyes at him.”
“Not that old!” Her cheeks grew even hotter, but not at the misunderstanding. Rather, it was at the way he’d described her eyes. She hadn’t even realized he noticed how she looked before. “I don’t mean a retired man. I was thinking thirties or forties. Surely there’s a higher percentage of guys who have their lives together by then. A little maturity can go a long way.”
“Maybe.” He was still eyeing her, and she had no idea what he was thinking. “So where are you going to find all these mature, available men to date?”
“That’s my problem. I really don’t know. I was going to ask my friends and my brother for help. Uh, actually, maybe you can help.”
Up went his eyebrows again. “You want me to help?”
“Sure. Why not? Don’t you have friends you could introduce me to?”
He made a choking sound. “You want me to introduce you to all my old-man friends?”
“Not old man. Older-man friends. Don’t you have any?”
“I have friends, yes.”
“So don’t you think any of them would be interested in me?”
He stared at her for a little too long without speaking. Then finally murmured, “I have no idea.”