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She closed her mouth and shrugged.
Arnold didn’t let her off the hook. “You’re not a coward, Liza. It’s a straightforward question, one you already know the answer to.”
If all that was holding her back was their last names, Liza’s response would be as simple as Arnold believed. It would be yes.
The reason it wasn’t easy had nothing to do with family rivalries or even Patricia. It had to do with the way Matt had made her feel that night. Because the sex had been eye-opening and slightly terrifying. He had revealed something… Well, something she’d probably known was there but hadn’t ever allowed herself to consider. She’d spent too many years sleeping with idiots who didn’t realize there was this little thing on a woman’s body called the clit…
Matt not only knew it existed. He knew exactly what to do with it.
She raised her gaze to Arnold’s, aware she was doing something she never did. She was blushing. Serious flames licked her cheeks, and Arnold, the observant asshole, not only noticed but interpreted exactly where her thoughts had gone.
“You and I have talked about everything under the sun this past year, haven’t we?” he asked casually.
“We have.” Somewhere along the line, Johnnie and Arnold had become two of her best friends. Probably because her girlfriends were dropping like flies, Cupid flinging arrows in every direction except hers, which meant Penny, Jess, Gianna, and Keeley now spent their nights in committed bliss with their soul mates rather than cruising the nightclubs with her.
“Everything except sex.” Arnold claimed he liked her because she didn’t mince words, but she couldn’t hold a candle to him when it came to being forthright.
“That’s true,” she replied.
“And we don’t have to start now if it makes you uncomfortable, but, well, the door is open.”
Liza appreciated the offer, even though she wouldn’t have a clue how to begin. If she couldn’t manage to say the easy stuff, how the hell could she tell Arnold, a sixty-two-year-old gay man who’d become an extra brother/best friend, that she was…
Fuck. She couldn’t even think the word inside her own mind. How could she say it out loud?
“I…I… He…um…”
Arnold frowned. “Did he hurt you?”
“Oh my God, no. At least, not in any way that I didn’t want. He was strong and demanding and…” Liza resisted the urge to fan herself, certain she was probably past the red stage and now turning purple.
“I see,” Arnold mused.
She was afraid he did. “He awakened something in me that I’m not sure I can turn back off, now that I’ve… God. Why is this so hard to admit?”
“Say the words, Liza. Tell me what he showed you. Tell me what you discovered. Not speaking them doesn’t mean they aren’t true.”
“I think I might be sexually submissive.”
“You think?”
“I’ve never been with a man who made me feel the way Matt did.”
Arnold nodded his head slowly, considering that, the silence drifting too long for her comfort.
She broke first. “Say something.”
“It’s clear that night with him made quite an impression on you, shook your foundation, rattled the windows.”
“You can say that again,” she mumbled.
“So don’t you think something that impactful is worth taking a closer look at, worth exploring?”
“Are you talking about Matt or the sex?”
“Are they separate in your mind?” he countered.
“Not at all,” she whispered. Liza’s shoulders drooped. Because while his words were right, they were also hard.
