Kayla flung her hands together in prayer pose and leaned into them. “We can work with this. Just give me a second to think.”

“How? It’s not like I can tell my mom that you and I are dating.”

“Ew, why would you tell her that we were dating?” She threw her hands down and looked up at me, her expression almost disgusted. Any normal male would have been offended, but I was clearly not normal.

“I didn’t tell her we were dating,” I said again.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean ew, like you’re gross to look at or anything.” She waved a hand toward my face. “It’s just that ...” She was flustered, and it was funny, actually watching her squirm for once. Kayla was always fairly composed and let things roll off her back. “I think of you like a brother, and she has to know I’m gay. Right?”

I ignored the last question because I honestly wasn’t sure what my mother knew about Kayla’s personal life. “I feel the same way, Kayla. Calm down.”

She narrowed her eyes before doing as I asked and inhaling a long breath.

“How am I even supposed to meet someone? I’m always working. Most women don’t like coming in second to a career. And the ones who don’t mind it, I’m not interested in.”

Kayla grinned. “You mean, you don’t want a pretty little thing on your arm to parade around town and make all the other boys jealous?”

“A trophy wife?” I scoffed. “Definitely not.”

Kayla stopped smiling and grew serious. “I know. I can’t see you with someone like that.”

I lifted my head and met her wide brown eyes straight on. “Who can you see me with?” I asked, wondering what kind of impression I gave off in her perspective.

She shrugged her shoulder. “I’m not sure,” she said, but for some reason, I didn’t quite believe her. Maybe it was the shit-eating grin that suddenly appeared on her face.

“I think that’s part of the problem,” I started to overexplain. “I’ve never really thought about it either.”

“I’m aware. They don’t call you the Not-So Prince Charming for nothing.” Her eyes practically rolled right out of her head at the use of one of my trademarked nicknames.

“You know, I’ll never understand why being single is such a bad thing. If I was bringing a different woman to every event during Social Month, they’d print a bunch of shit about what a womanizer I was. And not in a nice way.”

“Yeah, but they’d secretly worship you for it too,” she added before I could keep talking.

“No shit. Why is that?”

“Because it makes you hard to tie down. Like, you’ve had soooo many women, so who will be the one to actually capture your heart? And what makes her so special?” She mimicked like she was conducting an interview. “We’re a fairly messed up society when it comes to love and what we consider romantic.”

I wished I could disagree with her, but it was true.