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“Make sure you remember who’s in charge here.” I slapped her ass, not hard, but the sound filled the room. “Did you order anything for me?”
“You.” She looked over her shoulder. “You’re the easy one. Cheeseburger with ketchup only. Extra crispy fries.” She deepened her voice to imitate me.
I chuckled and situated her in the crook of my arm, right where I wanted her. She settled against me.
“I couldn’t decide between the cheeseburger with ranch or the chicken tenders and ranch or the pizza and ranch,” she huffed and bit her lip.
“So, what did you decide?” Her eyes darted away. “Ciara.”
“I told you.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t decide.”
“You ordered all of them.” I rubbed my face.
“Yeah, but from the kid’s menu.” She peered up at me.
“And why are you eating like a six-year-old?” I tapped her on the nose.
“I don’t know.” Her little nose twitched. “I feel like a little kid around you.”
I narrowed my eyes. What we did was not suitable for young people.
“Not when we . . .”
She couldn’t say it.
“When we fucked.” I grinned. Her brown eyes grew wide.
“Yeah, that.” She shook her head. “No, when we . . . “ She paused again.
“Fucked.”
“I was getting to it.” She playfully slapped me in the chest. “I felt very grown-up. I’ve never come like that before in my life.”
She better not have.
“It was amazing.” She touched my face. “You’re amazing.”
She hid her face between the bed and my chest. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“What are you thanking me for?” I tickled her stomach. She giggled and stilled my hand.
“For not treating me like a little kid.” Her face got serious. “And, for fucking me.” She bit her lip and then burst into a fit of giggles.
“Hey.” I gripped her chin and leaned in close. “Watch your language, and you’re welcome.” I laid a quick kiss on her mouth and on both her cheeks. I leaned back against the headboard, and she shifted to watch the sunset.
“You know the one and only fight Bishop and I got into was about you.” I ran my hand under her shirt and laid it across her chest. She laid a hand over mine over her shirt. “He confronted me about kissing you, and when I admitted it, he was like okay and I thought it was squashed. Then three hours later, out of the blue, he sucker punched me in the face.” I ran my finger down the bridge of my nose.
“Oh my God.” She looked back at me.
“It’s like he wanted me to think we were good. Roman had taken us to Las Vegas the day after your birthday party. I was to report to basic training a few days later. I guess he didn’t want to ruin it or something. But then he thought about it for two days and he just fucking punched me.” I turned her head back to watch the sunset. “It all happened in slow motion, I didn’t even feel it until the blood started pouring out of nose. We were in some sleezy bar, off the strip. Everyone stopped and stared. The whole place went quiet. Then all hell broke loose. I went after Bishop. The guys tried to keep us apart. We yelled insults back and forth. Keith and Michael finally managed to pushed me out and took me to the hospital. It was broken and I had to report to basic with a messed-up nose and a black eye.”
“He broke your nose with one punch?” She ran her hand up and down my forearm.
“Bishop could fight.”
“Then what happened?” She cuddled into me.
“That was it.” I shrugged. “I left for basic, and we didn’t talk again for months.”
