Page 93

The backs of my knees hit something. The sofa—I’ve been walking backwards, slowly, without meaning to, like I’m sleepwalking, in a trance—and I fall into it, like I can’t bear my own weight anymore.

“Take your time.”

There’s the slightest, tiniest hint of sarcasm in Blue’s voice. At least, I think there is.

I give him a little scowl. “Happy to.” But even that little glance up at his eyes is too much. I pin my wrists between my knees, stare at the middle distance of his floor.

Maybe if I start a sentence, it’ll come to me. I swallow. “The other night was…”

My whole body heats even brushing against the memory. Fox, sweet, strong, Fox, pinning me there, holding me there, mouth warm on mine and hands obviously desperate to touch me. How easy and safe and good I felt in his arms, his embrace. God, nobody’d ever embraced me before, not like that. And if he kisses like that, then…

A little pulse of arousal fires through me, and I shift my hips on the couch.

But is that what I want? Is that…all I want?

It’s just kinda…unconventional, I guess.

That’s what I’d told the girls at the store, hadn’t I? But they were right.

I am unconventional.

“The truth is…” I begin, finishing a sentence from seconds, minutes ago. “The truth is, I don’t know what I want. I feel like…” I pause, biting my lip. “I feel like I can’t know, yet. Somehow.”

Blue nods.

“Do you need help finding out?” he asks.

Then, all at once, minutes after he actually said it, it hits me. Blue likes me. Blue wants me, Blue wants me, Blue can’t stop thinking about me—how did I breeze right by that fact? How am I not listening?

“Because I could help with that,” he adds.

Unnecessarily.

“Could you?” My voice sounds small, scratchy. Whiny, almost. But Blue smiles.

“It’s my job.” In two steps, he closes the distance between us. “And I’m very, very good at my job, Tink.”

He kneels, cupping my face gently toward his as he does, and I feel the jump of my own pulse in my jaw push against his fingertips.

“I know,” I whisper.

“Do you.”

That’s a statement.

“Yeah.” I swallow. “I…watched your stuff.”

“My stuff,” he repeats. Then a gleam flares in his eyes. “My stuff.”

“Yeah.” I don’t know why it’s stranger to admit that I’ve watched him jerk off when his fingers have been inside me, but my skin gets hot all the same.

He smirks, but only briefly. “No refunds.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. “I didn’t pay. Just the…previews.” Heat is climbing up my chest, my neck.

“Mhm.” Blue retracts his hand, drops me entirely, and rises back up only to sink into his desk chair. The same desk chair. The only one, I guess. “And?”

“And what?” I fold my arms.