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“Neither,” he confesses, his voice hard. “It’s a fact.”
I hug my knees tighter to my chest as the long grass sways around us. The sun is warm on my shoulders while I hold his gaze.
He clears his throat. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be if I—”
“Fifty,” I respond, smirking at him because the moment he mentions something being bad, it would be horrendously bad, I suspect.
He arches a brow. “I didn’t finish.”
“Didn’t have to. I got the gist to know it involved doing something I wouldn’t agree with.”
My stomach flutters at the wicked thoughts that play on my mind. Despite myself, I want to know exactly what he was going to propose.
He studies me intently, the corners of his mouth curling upward mischievously. Yep, whatever it was he had in mind, it was dirty. “Do you ever stop being so serious and just enjoy someone’s company?”
His question catches me off guard, as it never occurred to me until now that I came across that prickly. But when he looks at me with a raised brow, I can’t help myself and say, “And do you never cease joking?”
His expression hardens. “Sweet cheeks, you may not love me if you see who I truly am.”
