Alex chuckled. 'I never have other plans. I hate people, remember?' It wasn't strictly true, but he was a little anti-social. Over the years he had realised that the only people worth knowing were those you couldn't resist. The pain caused by the loss of a loved one was worth nothing less than those who made immortal life worth living. He lived for people like Victoria, who would make him feel alive again.
He smiled at her. 'Your sense of direction is not what worries me. I know what people our age are capable of.' 
He followed her to the door and gripped the edge, gesturing toward it. 'Ladies first.' He knew that his gentlemanly ways didn't fit into the time period, but he couldn't resist it. He had the undying urge to want to make people feel special, important even. He knew, especially in recent years, that lots of young women worried about how they were perceived.
He would never admit, even to himself, that he could love anyone. Love was too dangerous. Too close. Too morbid when it ended. So relationships were not something he would pursue, or open himself up too, but he did prefer the company of young women, to that of young men. The problem was in the minds of modern men. They were uncultured, ridiculous and somewhat dull. He preferred a good woman, a lady who could not only accept your friendship for what it was, but also provide a stimulating conversation.
Modern men and neanderthals had too much in common, in his opinion.