different? Your extraordinarily high consumption of sun-blush tomatoes? Because, besides that, you are pretty similar to everyone else.’
‘Am I?’ I ask, outraged.
‘A bit sexier maybe, a bit cleverer.’ He ambushes me with compliments. My outrage is melting and being replaced by pure delight. ‘You are just the same, Cas. You can fall in love just as easily.’
Angry again, I retort, ‘No, I can’t. I’m not good on intimacy. I don’t like people. They are stupid and disappointing.’
‘Not everyone. You like me.’
‘You are so vain.’ And so right.
‘You want to cop out of the human race, then? You can’t just hide away, secure because you are not involved, not risking.’
‘I have. I am.’
‘Just because your father let your mother down it doesn’t mean you can’t find love.’
‘If not him, who?’ I laugh but my voice is unnaturally high.
‘What?’
‘If my father couldn’t love me, which man can?’ I’m going for closure.
‘I’d like to have a go.’
Bingo.
Fuck no.
It’s unnecessary. I want to sleep with him. But he doesn’t need to lie to me. He doesn’t need to give me a cheesy line about love. I’m surprised. I thought he was above that. And it is obviously a cheesy line because he can’t mean that he wants to have a relationship with me. I’ve spent the last three days telling him how little I believe in, or care for, such things. Not that this is the first time that I’ve been faced with this kind of declaration. Men are always telling me they love me. Always have done. But I know they don’t mean it and sometimes they know they don’t mean it, too. It’s just a rather rudimentary ritual. It’s more polite than just asking for a fuck. I rarely sleep with men who go for the love angle, unless I’m certain they don’t mean it. If I suspect they do mean it, I forgo the sex and turn them into good friends – using their devotion for practical purposes whenever my lawn needs mowing or my garage needs clearing.
But Darren’s different.
I don’t think he would talk of love unless he was serious. But then, how can he be serious after all I’ve said? I do want to sleep with him because I fancy him like mad. But I can’t possibly sleep with him if I think it means more than just sex to him. It will only get complicated. I don’t want to hurt him. He’s a nice guy. I must be absolutely transparent about how I feel about him.
If only I knew.
‘I don’t think you are the right man to try and love me, Darren,’ I grin brightly. It’s a fake grin and fake brightness.
‘Why is that?’
‘Well, you’re not my type.’
‘Why not?’
Why not! Why not? God, this guy is arrogant. ‘Well, you’re a bit too serious and, erm, homely, for me.’ Darren looks at his empty cup. I feel like the bitch everyone says I am. I try to make amends. ‘I’m not saying I don’t fancy you. I do fancy you. I’d be happy to fuck.’
‘Sex is not supposed to be separate from love.’ Darren stares at me horrified and yes, I think it is disgust I can see there. Well, that should make things simpler.
‘Aghh, but I’ve had great uncomplicated sex.’ I try to cheer him.
‘Yes, but have you ever made love? All that variety. The flings, the shags, the affairs, the nameless wonders—’ He waves his hand, dismissing the men in my past, just the way I do. ‘You’ve never had love. It’s just too easy to avoid.’
‘I don’t need it,’ I say matter-of-factly.
‘You think you are so brave, don’t you, Cas?’ I never indulge in these conversations. They lead nowhere. They lead to— ‘Well, you’re not. Being brave is trusting. Being aloof is easy.’ I stifle the yawn. Go, Einstein. I reassure myself that it is only his pride that is hurt. ‘You use your parents and your career to avoid intimacy because you are scared.’
‘Did you go to college to come up with that?’
We glare at each other over the single bud vase with the plastic flower and the empty wine bottle that is doubling as a candleholder. I know enough about men to realize that pursuing this scenario is going to waste my time. Darren’s too intense. Someone would get hurt. Yes, he’s a shag, undeniably fanciable, but it’s not worth it. He has bunny boiler written all over him. He obviously cares for me and I simply can’t allow myself to feel the same