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“I’m trying to mellow you the fuck out. It’s not working.”
“I thought we established bourbon makes me feisty.”
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” he asked.
“Oh, hello, left field. Nice to meet you.”
“Sutton,” he growled.
“I don’t have a boyfriend because I don’t want one. And even if I was looking for one, my life just got really complicated, and at twenty-two I already have a lot of baggage. I’m no prize.”
“No prize? Jesus Christ, Sutton. You don’t get how different you are, do you? You’ve got bigger balls than most grown men I know.”
“Why? Because I killed a guy who was determined to rape me and then sell me?”
“That’s one reason, yeah. And the fact that your home burned to the ground and it’s like it hasn’t even fazed you.”
I drank some bourbon, wrinkling my nose at the fumes. “You guys did me a favor. I hated that fucking thing.”
“Then why were you living there?”
“Because I didn’t have a choice.”
“We all have choices.”
“It was cheap,” I said. “It was familiar. Doesn’t mean it was right.”
“So what were you doing?” he asked.
“About what?”
“Working. Were you just working at Spurs to make barely enough to live the exact same life year after year? Were you saving to go to college? Were you saving to get out of town? What?”
“Can I get some more of that bourbon?” I demanded.
“Pace yourself.”
“I have a full stomach—and English blood. I process liquor just fine.”
I held out my cup and Viper poured in a splash.
I shot him a glare, but he didn’t have a heavy hand.
“Don’t make me fight you for it,” I quipped.
“I’d like to see you try.”
“All I’d have to do is take off my tank. You’d be putty in my hands.”
With a sigh, he poured a bit more into my glass.
“Oh wow, you care about my honor. I don’t know whether to be offended or pleased.”
“Back to our conversation,” he rasped.
“None of it,” I stated. “I didn’t have any plans for the money. I was just going to earn it and have it. Sitting there.”
“Doing nothing.”
