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I shut my mouth.
“If you ever, for even one second, feel like that, you tell me … and slap me in the face. I’m not only here for sex. You’re not my whore. I’m a fan of dirty talk, yes, but us having sex isn’t what this is all about.”
My heart races at his confession, and I struggle for words while staring at him. “So, this isn’t just casual sex between two neighbors?”
His lips tilt into a smile.
I give him a cheesy smile in return.
“Absolutely fucking not. Again, I can find sex anywhere.” He squeezes me.
If I could see my heart, it’d be glowing.
I make myself comfortable, and he rests his hand on my waist. The warmth of his skin relaxes me.
The room turns quiet, the TV he turned on the only noise, and he scratches his jaw before speaking. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Depends on what it is,” I mutter.
His hand moves and begins stroking my shoulder. “Hey, don’t blame a man for being curious about the woman in his bed.”
“I’m close to drunk, so ask away.”
“What made you decide to be a writer?”
I gulp. I hate being asked that question, and I normally lie. I don’t to him. “Because of Trey’s dad.”
He tenses. “The deadbeat asshole?”
I nod. “He was the only guy of my sister’s who was nice to me.” I hold a finger up. “Correction: he was nicethen.”
He tightens his hold, expecting a bad story.
“He helped me with my homework and talked to me about my goals. I only got books from him or the library, so when I was running low, I read the newspaper. It was a national paper, and I loved reading the articles. He told me writers got paid pennies and to choose a better career path. I won’t lie and say I didn’t change my mind, but then he broke my heart. I went to my journal and wrote about him, wishing I could publish it so that everyone else would know, too. I signed up for the newspaper to spite him, not caring if I’d make money, and I fell in love with it.”
“What did he do to hurt you?”
I rub my forehead, and the memories of fear and hurt play through my mind. “He was the same as all her other boyfriends. He was better at putting up a front. He hurt me, he hurt Trey, and I’ll never forgive him for that.”
He grits his teeth. “What do you mean, he hurt you?”
“No, no, nothing like that. More like hurt my feelings.”
He presses his lips to my cheek, then my nose, and then pulls back with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry that happened.”
I duck my head down. I hate talking about Sam. “Why were you so hell-bent on not going into law and politics?”
“I was expected to grow up in my father’s shadow. Instead, I decided I wanted to be a police officer. It pissed him off, but I didn’t care.”
“I like that you followed your heart.”
“I’m glad you followed yours. Fuck Trey’s dad.” His chest moves when he chuckles. “When you became editor of the school paper, Ms. Sanders allowed me to read your unapproved articles.”
Embarrassment and shock trickle up my spine. “What?”
There’s playfulness in his tone. “I was her TA, and she talked about how you wanted to create controversy with your articles. You never cared about speaking the truth, no matter how many toes you stepped on.”
“Nope. The truth will set you free.”
