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“It was amazing.”
And I felt him all the way down to the part of me that was hiding.
I flushed with heat, remembering his hands on my body, remembering him inside me.
Peyton let out a light chuckle. “Ah, I see.”
“What do you see?” I demanded.
“It scared you. Whatever you felt when you were with him.”
I blew out a breath. “It was everything I needed it to be.”
“Then what’s the problem? Unless you immediately wanted something more with him?”
I shook my head. “Hewanted more of me than I was willing to give.”
She set her glass of wine aside and then went to the refrigerator. Peyton pulled out all the ingredients for a salad.
“Do you have a vase?” I asked.
“Top of the fridge.” She pointed. “What do you mean he wanted more of you?”
“I wasn’t myself when he came over. I was—there were…” I sighed. “I’d gotten into a fight with my mother.” Peyton knew about my mom. I tended not to talk about my family life and childhood if I could help it, but one day while I was on break, she’d caught me in the throes of a conversation with my mother. Inevitably, curiosity and questions arose. I’d just moved to Dallas, I was feeling vulnerable, and she was willing to lend an ear. We’d waited until the end of our shift and gone out for a drink. I’d spilled about my mother, and she spilled about losing her husband.
“Boxer came over to take me out on a date, and I sort of took out my aggression on him. Sexually.”
Confusion marred her expression. “And he was upset about that?”
“No. He let me. But after, he started to dig into what was going on. I didn’t want him to dig.”
“Huh.”
“Scissors?”
She opened a drawer and handed the scissors to me. I talked while I snipped the stems of the flowers. “I don’t understand why he cared. This was supposed to be easy and light. Easy and light doesn’t mean you talk about your family dynamics.”
“Didn’t he show up at the hospital with food from The Rex?”
“The gossip wheel is greased and working I see,” I said with a rueful grin. “Yeah, he did show up with food.”
“And the night you had sex with him, you were supposed to go out again, right?”
“He told me to wear a nice dress. He was dressed up, too. Well, nicer than normal for a biker, I guess.”
Peyton grabbed a tomato from the fruit bowl and rinsed it off. When she hadn’t said anything for a few moments, I prodded, “What? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking actions speak louder than words.”
“I had sex with him and then kicked him to the curb.”
“Notyouractions. His. From everything you’ve told me, it doesn’t sound like a man who wants something easy and light. If all he wanted was fun, he wouldn’t drive all the way to Dallas just to see you.”
“He’s not driving all the way to Dallas just to see me,” I protested. “He says the club has business in Dallas, so he makes the trek a few times a week.”
“Fine. But he’s still thinking about you, bringing you food and wanting to take you out on dates. That’s effort. Serious effort.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “You make a very valid case for him.”
