Chapter 6

RHIANNON

“You don’t look thirty years old,” I noted as he sat down and called the waiter. He didn’t apologize for coming late, neither did he state a reason why he had kept me waiting.

“Must be my charm that keeps the eternal youth going,” he said so casually, like it was all he had ever heard his entire life and that was just his default answer.

“You’re not blonde,” I stated. He laughed. A deep, velvety timbre that sounded oddly… musical.

“Technically, everything on my Tinder profile is fake to keep the fake ladies away. That’s why I’m not blonde,” he said. And then he leaned closer on the table. “Do you like blondes?”

“No, I don’t!” I instantly responded. Even though, in fact, a quarter of the men I had fallen in love with were pigheaded blondes.

I really don’t like blondes. I just happened to go on dates with the wrong ones.

“Good,” he said, leaning back against his chair as if satisfied with my answer. The waiter stopped at our table and