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“They only get you when you can’t see them coming,” I say quietly, feeling a twinge of pride. “Because you’re too strong for them.”
He chuckles while turning back around. My breath hitches when he grabs my hips and jerks me against him, standing firml
y between my legs as all our best parts line up.
“I like that you think that way,” he says, grinning as he toys with the hem of my shorts.
I run my hands over the muscles in his arms. He flexes on purpose, and I roll my eyes playfully while looking back into his eyes. “You are strong. You’re intimidating. People don’t see you as weak, so they strike when you’re most vulnerable.”
“The guy shooting from the closet was shooting blindly,” he points out.
“So you’re not big and strong?” I ask, then burst out laughing when he lifts me up and starts walking with me.
“Strong enough to handle you,” he quips, then slaps my ass with one hand.
“I bet I could take you,” I say jokingly, but wondering if I really could or not.
“I’ll let you show me your fighting skills later,” he says before kissing me again and moving toward a room.
I decide I don’t want to know if I can take him or not. I just want to pretend like I’m a normal girl with a normal guy in our normal relationship for one normal night.
***
The sun is creeping up, and I’ve laughed so much my sides hurt. Neither of us has slept. We’ve eaten a couple of times, had a lot of sex, and laughed more than I’ve ever laughed, but sleep hasn’t been high on the list of priorities.
I think we’re both afraid to close our eyes and lose this fleeting moment of perfection.
Now I’m sprawled across the couch as he tells me about his very happy childhood that isn’t filled with dark memories.
My eyes flit around the room, taking in all the pictures of this alleged family he only speaks about in the past tense.
“So what happened? Or is that none of my business?” I ask him, lifting my head up to peer at him.
His smile slowly falls, and I hate myself for asking.
“Never mind. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay, Lana. Stop apologizing for trying to get to know me,” he says, grinning again. He brushes my hair away from my face before resting his hand on my shoulder. “I like you wanting to know more about me than my condom preference.”
I snort. Actually snort. Kill me now.
It just makes him laugh again.
Shaking my head, I shrug. “I know I can’t seem to tell you much about my past, so it’s not fair for me to ask about yours,” I say on a sad sigh, killing the light moment again.
His face grows serious, and his hand starts running up and down my back as I lay my head down on his chest.
“Tell me what you want to when you’re ready,” he finally says, kissing the top of my head. “I get that not all pasts are as easy as mine was. As for my parents… My mom got a little wild in her mid-thirties, and she divorced a good man in pursuit of wild sex and rich men. Things were fine until then. I never actually knew my real dad, other than knowing he was in the military. He sent a few pictures to me with letters, as though I wanted to see his face. My stepdad was always my true father, in my opinion. He came into the picture when I was two and raised me like his own.”
I run my fingers along his chest.
“Any exes I should be worried about?”
He strangles on air before laughing. “No. Not at all. All the relationships have ended on really bad terms. I sort of suck at being a boyfriend since I’m married to my job.”
He groans while running his hand through my hair, and I lift my head, staring into his eyes.
“Just don’t let me fuck this up, because I kinda like you,” he says, smirking at me.
