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“I am not telling you,” I mutter, and he squeezes my hand a little tighter and I feel my hard outer shell fracturing just a little.
“You seemed upset after talking to Grandma. What did she say?”
I pull my hand away from his and stalk to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and the whiskey. I need something to distract me from this horrifying conversation.
When I turn around, William is standing right where I left him, his eyes on me.
“Brenda just keeps talking about….” I can’t even get the words out.
William rolls his lips between his teeth, but he doesn’t say anything. I’ve never had anyone listen to me so raptly before.
“She keeps talking about dying,” the last word comes out in a whisper and I take a large, burning sip of whiskey.
William moves toward me and gently takes the cup from my hand, setting it on the counter.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I grumble as his hands slide up my chest and clasp onto the back of my neck. Mine go to his hips and I pull him into me.
“She’s fine. And the doctor’s appointment is in a few days and then you can hear it for yourself,” he says soothingly.
My eyes shut and I tilt my head back a little, letting out a exhale.
I know all this; I just have this bad fucking feeling. It’s probably just my anxiety rearing its ugly head. But I’ve never had anyone in my life like her before.
I can’t imagine my life without her in it.
“Hey,” he says softly, his nose nuzzling the line of my jaw. “It’s okay, Lexington.”
I can’t stand it, how kind he’s being right now. It makes my chest hurt.
“Here,” William says, and my eyes pop open when I feel him nudge my arm.
I look down at his extended hand and see the flash drive in his palm.
“What’s this?” I ask, my brows furrowed.
He meets my confused stare. “I don’t want it.”
I just gape at him in disbelief because seriously? Who is this man? I would be all over that info. I would be analyzing that shit to death.
“Why the fuck not?” I ask, feeling a little offended. Does he not want to know me? I basically handed him a highly confidential account of my past.
Does he not care?
“I wantyouto tell me, Lexington. When you’re ready.”
Well, motherfucker. I was not expecting that and I hate that I like it.
I glower at him, feeling my heart thunder in my chest. My eyes sting.
“Yes, well, you won’t get to know me unless you read this. I’m not going to tell you any of my shit.”
He bites his inner cheek and examines me. Then I see him set the flash drive down on the counter.
“You will.”
I scoff and roll my eyes because the nerve of this man. I willnever.
He pulls my face toward his, brushing his lips against mine, and I pull him into me because he tastes good.
