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“Hmm. And you don’t?”

“I loved Becca.”

“Who’s now gone,” he says as if that’s obvious.

“A heart isn’t something you give twice. Once you’ve given it away, it’s gone.”

Bas laughs. “Why the hell would you believe that?”

“Because it’s true,” I bite out at his ridicule. “I don’t expect you to understand. You probably think you’re in love all the time and⁠—”

“I don’t. Lust? Yes,” he concedes. “I was in love once. It didn’t work out. She was married and I respected that. I had a good man cry about the fact she’d never be mine, then I told myself to move on. I’ve fucked around a lot to distract myself, I admit. But eventually, I’ll fall in love again. I’ll never love that woman less, but I’m ready to find someone new to fill my heart.”

This is the first I’m hearing of Bas believing he was attached. “Who were you in love with?”

“Does it matter? It didn’t work out. But the pain of losing her isn’t stopping me from looking. If the right woman comes along at the right time, I’ll happily give her my heart. I’m on the downhill slide to thirty, man. I’d like to hope that’s going to be soon. But even if it takes until I’m eighty to fall in love again, I’ll wait. It’s worth it.”

“Why? It can bring a lot of pain.”

“It can also bring a fuck-ton of happiness. Look at it this way: If you didn’t have people in your life, what would you have?”

I frown. “My business. My…hobbies.”

Then I fall silent because I can’t think of anything else.

“You’d have shit. You’d have meetings and balance sheets, taxes, paperwork, and strategic plans. In between all that…what hobbies? You’d have meals and errands, maybe a favorite TV show or two, a few meaningless lays when you could manage to pry yourself away from the office and scrape together a little charm at a local bar or do some random swiping right. You wouldn’t even have painting since I’ll bet you stopped doing that months ago. Am I wrong?”

I don’t say a word because I’m stunned by how right he is.

“It would be empty as shit,” he goes on. “Believe me, I know.”

Something bleak in his eyes tells me he’s not lying.

“What are you saying?”

“You want the short version?”

“Yes.” Sitting in the semi-dark with my best friend in his underwear and talking about hearts and love just isn’t very manly.

“Give love a try again. It’s right in front of you. Don’t piss it away.”

“Like I already said, I can’t give my heart twice. So why aren’t friendship, commitment, and fidelity enough for Nia?”

Bas sighs. “I should have known the short version wouldn’t convince you since you need logic for every fucking conclusion, even an emotional one.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“In business, no. But that won’t work with emotions. It’s as if you’re determined to treat love like a science experiment. You seem to have some hypothesis about love being a singular event. You get involved with Nia and stir the beaker a little, then start recording her reactions, studying the data and making comparisons so you can draw conclusions. Dude, no. She’s a different woman than Becca. Nothing is going to be the same. Hell, you’re not the same.”

I want to refute him. And I can’t. On some level, I’ve assumed that, because my relationship with Nia isn’t like the one I shared with Becca it can’t be love. But I didn’t take into account the variables, like the fact that my control samples are totally different.

Sitting back, I regard him with a solemn stare.

“And the kicker is…” He shakes his head as if he’s reluctant. “Never mind.”

“No. I’m listening.” Because I suspect he’s on to something.

“You’ll just get pissed off. So, let’s talk about something else. I’ve been doing some digging into Lund, trying to figure out why he has such a hard-on to buy Stratus, but I’ve hit a brick wall, so⁠—”