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She blinked, then gave a haughty little tilt to her chin “Because I’m not into men who sleep with so many different women”

Were they back to that?

“I think you overestimate my prowess”

She broke eye contact and laughed “Nice try, Casanova”

He watched her toy with her wine “What type of men are you into?”

Not answering for several lass

“Ones who aren’t like you,” she finally said

Although her response didn’t surprise him, he frowned “That’s not an answer”

“Sure it is”

“How so?”

“It means I’m into men who aren’t adrenaline junkies, who have steady, stable jobs, who don’t feel the need to have the most notches on their bedpost”

Her response gained passion with each word,to convince him or herself

“You know, guys who aren’t like you” She emphasized the last word

Was that how she saw him? The same way the rest of the world did, no doubt Still, her words stung in ways the words of a wo They had no relationship, had just lived next to each other since she’d bought the apartht the place as he’d considered to expand his own again, one through life without the pleasure of having hbor

“None of those things disqualifyin every nuance of her facial expression “Because none of those things describe me”