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He flipped the bread with tongs. “I regretted it so much it was nearly a year before I’d willingly strip off to swim.”

“What about sex?”

With an eye roll he said, “Women I let see it got hooked on the idea of it. The tattooed bad boy, fast money, faster cars, and rough sex in improbable places, and that was fun for a while, but I got tired of pretending to be someone I’m not.”

He plucked the toast out of the grill, put it on a plate, spread each piece lightly with butter, and then added the cheesy mixture. “I’m not spontaneous. I don’t do things on a whim. I don’t have Cal’s charm and likeability, and I don’t want to jump out of planes or climb mountains like Zeke. I like old things, fine wines, the History Channel, crusts on bread, and sums that add up in little boxes. I’m the cautious brother, the one who hates risk, who worries, and I’ve made my peace with that.”

“You could’ve gotten it removed.”

“I almost did.” Back in the grill the toast went. “The regret softened, I stopped caring what people thought, and at the end of the day it’s a badass alicorn and it looks boss.”

She slipped off her stool and rounded the counter to stand beside him and watch the grill, the cheese not yet bubbling. She leaned into his side and sighed with happiness when he hugged her closer. He’d loved her expertly, he had the ingredients for a gourmet snack, and it smelled amazing already. It might not be spontaneous, but it was satisfying. “Remember the mark on my arm you were worried was a bruise?”

He rubbed the approximate spot. “Peeking out from your sleeve.”

“It was a unicorn, the prancing kind. Mallory drew one for both of us after that night when you went to war with Easton, and it took ages to scrub off. She’s been drawing them on herself ever since.”

“You worry about her.”

“Mom is lost in the new Bradshaws-are-trash world, and Mallory is a casualty.”

“And you?”

“I know who I am.” She frowned. “I just have to prove it.” Which was why this was only a weekend, despite their love of crusts, the gratifying sex, and the wisdom of the man making cheesy toast who no longer cared about the approval of others. He didn’t have to. He had fuck-off wealth, like she’d once had. She broke away from his side and went back to her stool abruptly, enough that he noticed, so she said, “Tell me about alicorns.”

He turned off the grill, piled the toast onto a plate, and put it in front of her with a napkin. “Twilight Sparkle is an alicorn. They’ve been around in art and mythology since 500 BC. They’re unique and legendary and magical and after a while I realized I was, too, as long as I didn’t try to be someone I’m not.”

On another man who would’ve been a boast. On Halsey it was a learning. And the fine print. There was zero point having any romantic fantasy notions he’d give up his life of crime for her.

“I keep it as a reminder to be true to myself. It’s so much a part of me now I forget it’s there.”

He chose a piece of the toast and held it up to her mouth. “Careful, it’s hot.”

She took a small bite. “I like it.” The toast, she took from his hand, the warning, the look in his eyes. He was more at ease than she’d seen him. Sex and middle-of-the-night feasts were a corner of his comfort zone.

“Your alicorn.” She took a second slice of the bread. “Does it have a name?”

“Call it Twilight Sparkle or She-Ra and you’ll find your cheesy toast has too much chili next time. I’m not a name your alicorn tattoo kind of guy.” True to himself. “Did you know virgins can tame unicorns?”

She laughed, spluttering toast crumbs. “Oh, you must’ve used that line a lot.”

“I stooped to it on occasion. Not my finest moments.” He chewed, watched her.

“What?”

“Wonder if we can find something you’re virgin at.”

“Halsey Sherwood, has the chili gone to your head?”

“You’ve gone to my head.”

Cheesy line; she ate it up. “What are you going to do about that?”

Challenge accepted, he came around the counter and crowded her, taking the last bite of the toast in her hand. She put her arms around his back, letting her fingers wander over heavy muscle and tattooed color. Now she knew him better, deeper for being his cautious, studious, unforgettable self.

There was the taste of heat in their kiss, a hot start to a lavish, unhurried make-out session that was tender, full of soft touches, and leisurely lingeringly caresses until Lenny’s core reactor threatened to melt down. She wrapped her legs around Halsey’s hips and went after his lips more aggressively.

“What do you need?” he asked, mouth sliding over her jaw.

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