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I shift my arm to hang off the side of the sofa, palm on the ground, and study her profile. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs. “Must have been pretty blind to get myself stuck in the situation I did, right?”
“Hindsight is fifty-fifty.”
“So I’m told.” She draws a deep breath, the action pulling the hem of her T-shirt higher on her thick thighs.
She doesn’t wear any shorts.
“You should be in bed, baby girl. Same as everyone else.”
“Why aren’t you?” Palms out to the flames, she gives me her back.
I don’t answer, choosing to cover my eyes again, both arms tossed over my face. Part of me wars with the lost time for dealing with my issues, the other frustrated at having to take on hers. Between myself, Tyke, and his kids, I’ve got more than enough strife to keep me occupied.
I don’t need some helpless woman burdening me with her failed relationship.
And yet I ache for that meal like a fucking starved dog.
“How do you do it?” she asks, breaking the blissful silence.
“Do what?” I murmur without moving a muscle.
“Live this life wondering who you’ll piss off next and what they’ll do about it.” She sighs, the sound moving to my left. I peek from beneath my bicep and spot her drop her ass to the rug. “Doesn’t that stress you?”
More than she’d know.“I guess I just don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about me.” But I do.
And she sees right through the lie. “You don’t strike me as that kind of person.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I’ve met people who truly don’t give a shit what others think about them, and they’re arrogant, cold, egoistic assholes.”
“Any other verbs you want to throw in the mix?”
“Those were adjectives, actually.”
I roll my head to face her, staring out from beneath my arm. “Same difference.” Never did enjoy that part of school all that much. “Whatever the hell gave you the impression I’m none of those things?”
“Gut feeling.”
“The same feelin’ that got you caught up with Connor Creed?” I smirk when her face falls and then roll my head back to hide my face.
“Maybe you are cold, then,” she mutters. “But I still don’t read you as the kind of guy who kisses his own reflection.”
I snort.
“Anyway.” She shuffles around, legs rubbing on the carpet by the sound. “I’m rambling. Which I do when I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“You should try gettin’ quiet.”Like I wanted to.“Makes it easier to hear yourself when you want an answer to your shit.”
She hesitates before asking, “Is that what you were doing?”
“Perhaps.”
“Are you ever right? Like, with the answers you give yourself?”
I shrug. “Sometimes.” My arms fall away, and I twist around to sit with a sigh. “Thinkin’ about Connor?”
