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"Did your parents beat you?"
"Nah," I said, clicking my tongue. That wasn't their style. "When was the last time you had an orgasm?"
"What?" she shrieked, clearly thrown off her game.
"Orgasm," I repeated, trying like fuck to not grin. "You know... when your breathing catches and your body tightens and your pussy..."
"I know what an orgasm is," she cut me off.
"I was just checking. You know, in case it's been so long that you've forgotten."
She lifted her chin a little, not wanting to seem prudish about the line of questioning. "Self-inflicted or from a partner?"
"Both."
"This wasn't trivial, you don't get a backup question. Pick one."
"Fine. Self," I said, not really giving a fuck what her sexual history was, but genuinely curious how often she diddled the skittle when between partners.
"I don't know... a month..."
"A month?" I asked, brow raising.
"I live at Hailstorm!" she defended. "I sleep in a barracks."
"Not for nothing, sweetheart, but I don't think a goddamn man in that room would have a problem with you taking care of business right then and there."
She laughed at that, giving me a small smile and not asking me to not call her that. I had called her it earlier without her objecting to it. So sweetheart it was. And, somehow, that was a really telling little thing.
"Why do you and Duke hate each other?"
Now there was an interesting question with no simple answer. I didn't hate Duke. I actually had a lot of respect for him until I figured out he was hiding a neo-nazi upbringing. You can't help what you're born into. I knew that better than anyone. But when I pushed that button to make sure it didn't create a spark, it set off what had been a ticking time bomb.
"We all have our things," I started, grabbing the beer and popping the top off. "I push buttons to see what they do. It's not exactly a habit that makes friends. Especially when you push a man like Duke's buttons and he fucking blows up. It's not a habit I can or even want to break and it's not something Duke can look over or forgive. We fight and we piss each other off, but he's my brother. That means something to me. Especially now."
"For what it's worth, Penny likes you. I think she'll bring him around eventually if you could maybe try to stop being a dick."
"Yeah, but what are the chances of that?" I asked with a smirk. "Why are you fighting this so hard?" I asked since it was my turn.
"Fighting what?" she asked, knowing damn well what I meant.
I took my plate, still mostly-full, and reached up to put it on the top bunk and put my beer on the floor, scooting forward on the mattress until our hips were lined up. My hand rose, gliding across her jaw until it cupped the side of her face. "This," I clarified. "And don't insult both of us by saying there isn't a this, because we both fucking know there is."
"Renny, it's..."
"Not complicated," I cut in. "So it's what? Scary? I scare you." Her eyes fell from mine, unable to admit that that was the truth. "Because you don't get the luxury of hiding from me. Because I can see past the shields."
"It's not that..."
"You do see that it's the same for me, right? You and me, we're two sides of the same fucking coin. No one gets to pull me apart and see how I tick. But I am letting you. It's not any easier for me to do it than it is for you to do it. But I'm willing to take the chance and see what happens. I'm just asking you to give it the same shot here. Not asking you to do something that I'm not willing to."
I had her with that.
Her eyes rose to mine, a little less guarded, a little more vulnerable. She had just given me more in ten minutes than she had given me in weeks.
The thing was, I wanted more. I wanted it all.
And judging by the fact that her eyelids were getting heavier as my finger traced up her cheek, yeah, she wanted more too.
My face lowered toward hers, watching for any sign of pulling away. Finding none, my lips pressed down to hers.
"There's someone at the gate," Cash called down the stairs. "Get your asses up here."
Mina shocked away from me, her lips parted, her eyes wide, realizing what we had been about to do.
"Move," she demanded, pressing a hand into my chest and when I didn't immediately go to comply, she shot off the other side of the bed, rushing around and slamming her feet into her shoes, obviously eager for a chance to create some distance again.
But she was really fucking underestimating me if she thought we were going to take steps back now that we had finally taken some forward.
