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He stepped closer, his jaw hard. “Wouldn’t you be mad if I called you a whore?”

I crossed my arms tightly against my chest, swallowing against the lump in my throat. “You called me a freak!” The hurt welled up all over again. I wanted to cry.

“Well, you freaked out!”

“Of course I freaked out!” I snapped, hot and tremulous. “I’ve never had unprotected sex in my life, and then to—fine, I should have trusted you, but I’m not good at that! And did you ever think, just for a second, that maybe I’m not playing games, but that I’m painfully shy?”

He cocked his head. “Are you?”

“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. “In certain departments. I don’t exactly have the best track record with men. Unlike you.” I went on the offense again. “With your record of Louisa Bellower and Jessica Marintos and Katie Lorraine!”

“You’re calling me a slut again.” He sounded amused.

“No. No. I’m just saying you’re a little more—experienced—than I am, and that freaked me out. It’s quite a history.”

“What did you do, stalk me?”

“Reading your Wikipedia page does not count as stalking.”

He shook his head. “First, those aren’t the kind of girls who get diseases—”

“That’s so elitist. You think money and fame is a deterrent?”

“Look, I just mean—”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I insulted you. I told you, I’m not good at this, and I panicked. I thought too much and got worried.”

Ryan watched me, an odd light illuminating his face. “How many people have you slept with?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Less than five?” he needled. I flicked my gaze away, and he pressed on. “One?”

“Three,” I shot back.

Surprise flared across his face, and then settled into delighted satisfaction. “Really. And who was the best?”

Smug bastard. I snorted. “Not you.”

He laughed, and then cocked his head with curiosity. “And why wouldn’t you let me—”

“Um,” I interrupted, jutting my chin up and focusing on a tree branch behind him. I could feel the heat streak across my cheeks. “I haven’t. Before.”

“You’re kidding. But what about—”

“I said no,” I told the branch. “I haven’t exactly had—normal relationships. With John, it just—I didn’t trust him enough. And with Stephen—well, he didn’t like that. And it’s not easy for me, you know.” I managed to drag my gaze back to his. “I don’t like not being in control.”

“I know.” The slightest smile curved his lips.

Oh, he thought it was funny? “You like being in control, too. Your nickname’s The General.”

The smile widened. “Yeah.”

“And you studied military history, too.” As though that mattered. “You didn’t tell me.”

His focus dipped slightly and he took a step closer to me. “I wouldn’t want to upset your assumption that I was a dumb jock.”

I smiled reluctantly. “No wonder you did so well at plotting America’s take-over by the NFL. That’s basically the culmination of all your life work.”

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