I lift a finger before he can speak.
“Second. You talk to me. Not just about the good stuff, but about the bad stuff too.”
His gaze locks in.
“There are still a lot of things left unsaid from the past,” I whisper. “And I know that kind of damage doesn’t just disappear. But I need us to be able to talk about it.Allof it.”
I lean forward slightly.
“I won’t be able to live with the anxiety of not knowing whether you’re grumpy one day because your coffee sucked… or because I accidentally triggered some fucked-up memory. I need toknowwhy the fuck you’re grumpy.”
His mouth twitches.
“And I’ll do the same,” I add.
“You’ve really thought about this,” he murmurs, watching me with something that looks like pride. “But yeah, I agree—”
“I wasn’t finished,” I cut in.
His brows rise.
Dummy. Of course I’ve thought about this. It was the only thing on my mind every time I visitedmy new special place.
“Third and final condition. You once told me you don’t mess with the club girls. But that was right after the dungeon, and frankly… you could’ve lied.”
His jaw tightens just slightly.
“So I need to know right now if there’s anyone at the clubhouse you were ever involved with. I need to know if I’ve been staring your past in the face every time I walked in there.”
And if maybe I need to ask Bones for a favor.
“I wasn’t lying,” he says firmly. His voice is still rough, but there’s steel under it now. “The last time I touched a club girl was almost a decade ago. Fresh out of the slammer.”
His fingers shift weakly against mine, frustration at his own physical limits flashing briefly across his face.
“I told you I went crazy back then, and I wasn’t underselling it. I stirred up a whole lot of fucking drama with the club girls. But they all eventually wised up and moved on. None of them are around anymore, so you don’t need to worry.”
I nod slowly.
“Oh, I wasn’t worried,” I say lightly — lying. “I just wanted to be prepared.”
A beat passes. My cursed curiosity claws its way up.
“I might want to hear about that drama at some point,” I add. “But without the… details. You know which ones.”
He glares at me.
“Let’s make something clear,” he says. “My one and onlyconditionis that I don’t want to hear about any of the dickheads you fucked.”
“That’s a good choice,” I reply, unable to stop the teasing in my voice. “But it’s cute that you think you can have a condition.”
His glare deepens. “I can and I will. And why is it a good choice? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I better be the best you’ve ever had.”
I lean forward, brushing the hair back from his forehead carefully, enjoying the way his eyes instantly drop to my boobs.
“Of course you’re the best I’ve ever had,” I say sweetly, keeping my teasing tone.
There’s no lie there. But that doesn’t mean I can’t poke at him a little.
