“Mmm-hmm.”

“And why bring back sand? Why not postcards, or better yet, the pictures you take? Isn’t that enough of a souvenir?” I turned to look at him.

“I take pictures because I love it, and it happens to be my job. But this? This is tangible, it’s tactile, it’s real. I can feel this, this is sand I was actually standing on, from every continent on the planet. It brings me back there, instantly,” he said, his eyes going all dreamy.

From any other guy, in any other setting, it would have been pure cheese. But from Simon? The guy had to be deep. Dammit.

My fingers continued to trail over all the bottles—almost more than I could count. My fingertips lingered on the few from Spain, and he noticed.

“Spain, huh?” he asked.

I turned to look at him. “Yep, Spain. Always wanted to go. I will someday.” I sighed and crossed back to the couch.

“Do you travel much?” he asked, sinking down next to me again.

“I try to go somewhere each year—not as fancy as you, or as frequent, but I try to take myself somewhere every year.”

“You and the girls?” He smiled.

“Sometimes, but the last few years I’ve enjoyed traveling by myself. There’s something nice about being able to set your own pace, go where you want, and not have to run it by a committee every time you want to go out for dinner, you know?”

“I get it. I’m just surprised,” he said, frowning slightly.

“Surprised that I’d want to travel alone? Are you kidding? It’s the best!” I cried.

“Hell, you’ll get no argument from me. I’m just surprised. Most people don’t like to travel alone—too overwhelming, too intimidating. And they think they’ll get lonely.”

“Do you ever get lonely?” I asked.

“I told you, I am never lonely,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yes, yes, I know, Simon says, but I have to say I find that a little hard to believe.” I twisted a lock of almost-dry hair around my finger.

“Do you get lonely?” he asked.

“When I’m traveling? No, I’m great company,” I answered promptly.

“I hate to admit it, but I’d agree with that,” he said, raising his mug in my direction.

I smiled and blushed slightly, hating myself as I did it. “Wow, are we becoming friends?” I asked.

“Hmm, friends…” He appeared to think carefully, examining me and my current state of blush. “Yes, I think we are.”

“Interesting. From cockblocker to friend. Not bad.” I giggled and clinked his mug with my own.

“Oh, it remains to be seen whether you’re lifted from cockblocker status yet,” he said.

“Well, just give me a heads up before Spanx comes over next time, okay, friend?” I laughed at his confused expression.

“Spanx?”

“Ah, yes, well, you know her as Katie.” I laughed.

He finally had the decency to blush and smile sheepishly. “Well, as it happens, Ms. Katie is no longer part of what you so kindly refer to as my harem.”

“Oh no! I liked her! Did you paddle her too hard?” I teased again, my giggling beginning to get out of control.

He ran his hands through his hair frantically. “I have to tell you, this is frankly the strangest conversation I’ve ever had with a woman.”

“I doubt that, but seriously, where did Katie go?”

He smiled quietly. “She met someone else and seems really happy. So we ended our physical relationship, of course, but she’s still a good friend.”

“Well, that’s good.” I nodded and was quiet a moment. “How does that work, actually?”

“How does what work?”

“Well, you have to admit, your relationships are unconventional at best. How do you do it? Keep everyone happy?” I prodded.

He laughed. “You’re not seriously asking how I satisfy these women, are you?” He grinned.

“Hell, no. I’ve heard how you do that! There doesn’t seem to be any question about that. I mean, how does no one get hurt?”

He thought for a moment. “I guess because we were honest going into this. It isn’t like anyone sets out to create this little world, it just happens. Katie and I had always gotten along great, especially in that way, so we just fell into that relationship.”

“I like Spanx—I mean Katie. So was she the first? In the harem?”

“Enough with the harem—you make it sound so sordid. Katie and I went to college together, tried dating for real, didn’t work out. She’s great though, she’s…wait, are you sure you want to hear all this?”

“Oh, I am all ears. I’ve been waiting to peel this onion since you first knocked that picture off my wall and clocked me on the head.” I smiled, settling back on the couch and curling my knees underneath me.

“I knocked a picture off your wall?” he asked, looking amused and proud at the same time. What a guy.

“Focus up, Simon. Gimme the skinny on your ladies in waiting. And spare no details—this shit is better than HBO.”

He laughed and put on his storyteller face. “Well, okay, I guess it started with Katie. We didn’t work out as a couple, but when we ran into each other after college a few years ago, coffee turned into lunch, lunch turned into drinks, and drinks turned into…well, bed. Neither of us was seeing anyone, so we started getting together whenever I was in town. She’s great. She’s just…I don’t know how to explain it. She’s…soft.”

“Soft?”

“Yeah, she’s all rounded edges and warm and sweet. She’s just…soft. She’s the best.”

“And Purina?”

“Nadia. Her name is Nadia.”

“I have a cat that says otherwise.”

“Nadia I met in Prague. I was doing a shoot one winter. I usually never do fashion photography, but I got asked to shoot for Vogue—very artsy, very conceptual. She had a house outside the city. We spent a naked weekend together, and when she moved to the States she looked me up. She’s getting her masters now in international relations. It’s crazy to me that at twenty-five she’s on the tail end of her career, in modeling, that is. So she’s working hard to do something else. She’s very smart. She’s traveled the entire world, and she speaks five languages! She went to the Sorbonne. Did you know that?”

“How would I know that?”