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He tensed. “Was what?”
She shrugged. “It seems like the more detached you are, emotionally, the more humiliating I find it. So, it was pretty humiliating.”
He nodded, still looking grim. “What about the things I said?”
“Oh, yeah.” She laughed a little, remembering. “That’s when it kind of fell apart, actually.”
His gaze sharpened. “What do you mean?”
“Not all of it,” she amended. “Some of it was great, like calling me a fuck toy. That was hot. I liked being your fuck toy.”
She sent him a sly wink, but he was still staring at her with narrowed eyes. “What didn’t work?”
“Oh. Well, you said I was disposable and threatened to replace me.” She rolled her eyes. “It sort of took me out of the moment.”
He shook his head as though he was clearing the cobwebs. “Took you out of the moment?”
“Well, you didn’t mean it, of course,” she pointed out, and picked up her wine again. “Even in that headspace, I knew it was just part of the game.”
“You knew I didn’t mean it.”
She sipped her wine, eyeing him over the glass. “Was I wrong?”
“No, of course not.”
She cocked her head. “You look relieved.”
“I am relieved.” He scrubbed a hand over his face like a man just emerging from a deep sleep. “I’ve been wracked with guilt all day.”
“Over what?” she asked with genuine shock.
“Over thinking you might have thought I meant it when I called you disposable and threatened to replace you,” he said, and his laugh was relieved. “I thought I’d hurt your feelings.”
“You would have, if I’d thought you were serious.” She set her wine down. “But I know you better than that.”
“Clearly.” He took a step toward her, then turned back to the stove when the timer beeped. “Dammit. Hang on.”
She watched him flipped the steaks onto a platter and turn off the gas, her thoughts racing. “You really thought I was hurt?”
“I worried you were.” He set the platter aside, covering the steaks loosely with a sheet of aluminum foil before turning back to her. “I guess I was the one who was hurt.”
“Baby.” She stepped forward and slipped her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” he mumbled into her neck, his arms tight around her. “I was so caught up in making it good for you that I forgot to consider my own boundaries.”
She rubbed her hands over his back, eager to soothe. “Well. That must’ve sucked.”
He laughed a little and planted a kiss on her shoulder. “To say the least.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He sighed, his breath gusting over her skin. “I had to figure out what was going on first. And I was feeling too guilty, thinking I’d hurt you, to talk to you yet. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” She tightened her hold. “Did you get it figured out?”
He raised his head. “I think so. I swung by Jack’s after work, talked it out with him. Turns out, I might have some shit left over from my parents’ divorce.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” She laid a hand on his chest, a pang in her own heart at the thought of him suffering. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”
