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The question hovers on my tongue, but I’m afraid to ask.
I shouldn’t ask.
“How many?”
“What?” King frowns.
“How many others?”
“What are you talking about?”
“How many girls—women—have you been with since I’ve been gone?”
He blinks, once, twice, and I hold my breath, my stomach sinking.
I shouldn’t have asked.
“None.”
“What?”
“No one.”
“For real?” My voice tips up with incredulity.
“Yes. For real. I told you—it’s always been you.”
My heart twists so hard it aches.
All this time, he waited for me. Waited for me to come back and be his again.
“What if I never came back?”
“Guess I’d die a lonely, horny old man.”
“King—”
He presses his lips to mine, effectively shutting me up. He always did say talking was overrated.
That kiss tells me everything I need to know.
King loves me, and always has.
14
KING
“Should I even ask? Do I want to know?” I stare into Juliet’s eyes, focus on the golden ring circling her dark pupils.
Hold my breath, because obviously the answer’s not zero. Otherwise she wouldn’t have asked. Not that I expected her to live like a nun, but still. I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
“Two.” She whispers the number, like she’s at confession. As if I can absolve her of her sins.
My gut twists, thinking of anyone being with her. Any other man touching her skin, feeling her lips on his, tasting her sweetness.
I shouldn’t have asked. But, perversely, I need to know.
“Okay.”
