Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Shame on me, indeed.
I've been so focused on the image this guy is projecting with his twinkling eyes and party-packed schedule, that I've failed to realize what he's doing all this time is one of the oldest tricks in the book.
The best way not to be seen is to hide in plain sight, and that's exactly what he did ever since swapping his FBI badge for a membership card with the rich and famous.
I'm sorry, Brenda.
For all I know, it's my dead sister who's sent a bee flying into Thomas' bonnet, and if even Brenda herself believes this man is my perfect match, then...
Chapter Four
UNIFORMED TRAIN STAFF had entered the dining car earlier to serve us our pre-booked meals, and it was over waffles and avocado shakes that I've told him the truth about myself.
'I make life decisions based on fiction' is the gist of it, but instead of calling 911 to have me taken away in a straitjacket—-
"Is that why you said 'He-Man' earlier?"
He's not only taking everything by stride, but he even sounds serious when asking me about 'He-Man'.
"Because his double life as prince and Master of the Universe reminds you of my work with Strakh?"
And now he's even low-key flexing his knowledge of the character?
"In a nutshell, yes, but..."
I'm honestly impressed, but I'm also starting to feel confused. People tend to freak out when they learn about my coping technique. I think it's because most of them assume I only have to watch a couple of minutes or Saw or The Purge, and I'm likely to go on a killing spree at any moment.
My blind date, on the other hand...
"Did you really get what I was saying earlier?" I only want to be sure there are no misunderstandings between us.
"You were basically saying that you use works of fiction - or snapshots, as you call them - as a point of reference for navigating emotionally charged and morally complex situations that you lack the necessary empathy to properly process. Did I get it right?"
"Uh..." I'm even more confused this time. "Why are you suddenly talking like a shrink?"
"Was I?"
"Yes. You were." And I don't see what purpose it would serve except to—-
My eyes widen.
"Were you trying to sound like someone from Psychology Today—-to avoid hurting my feelings?"
"Possibly?"
I roll my eyes, he grins at me, and I think...this is us flirting?
"Why would you even bother?" It's unexpectedly sweet, especially for a party boy moonlighting as a vigilante like him, but also ridiculously misguided. "I literally just told you earlier I'm emotionally challenged—-"
"I know."
"Then why try to spare my feelings?"
"Why indeed?" He rubs his jaw pensively, and the word 'sexy' pops in my mind for the first time in my life. "I guess it's because I like you?"
He...likes me?
I can't help looking at him suspiciously, and his lips twitch. "Do you know how you're looking at me right now?"
"Like I can't understand you?" Because it's true.
"Like you can't make up your mind whether you prefer me alive or dead."
The thought did cross my mind, since I am what I am, but I don't think he needs to know that.
"Obviously not a good thing no matter how you look at it," he continues, "but on the other hand..."
The sardonic note that suddenly underscores his voice startles me.
"If I have to choose between you contemplating the pros and cons of killing me...or you entertaining thoughts of another man?"
Well, duh. Even I'm not crazy enough to think he'd pick the latter—-
"Stare away, darling."
—-and yet that's exactly what he's done.
Huh.
I take another sip of my drink as I try to make sense of what he's saying.
Brenda used to warn me all the time about being too guarded, not just with other people but even with myself.
You have a good heart, but they won't know that if you don't allow them to get close, and you won't see it either if you're too close to it.
I used to think she was being worryingly optimistic, but maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe.
I study the man in front of me, and it's like seeing an archangel in real life.
Handsome. Strong. Noble.
Someone that has everything going for him, and so—-
"Are you really okay with someone like me? Even after everything I've told you?"
The similarities we share are superficial at best. He can never be different like me, and that's why everything this guy says and does just feels too good to be true.
He suddenly leans forward, and I tense up without meaning to.
"If you really want the truth..."
Finally.
I had a feeling there was a catch to all of this, but I was just too blind or stupid to notice it.
"When you told me you had something to say, I thought you were about to confess to another murder."
Oh.
"And once that thought occurred to me, I started planning how to make it go away."