“When we’re younger.” I emphasized the last word. “What exactly did you do? I want to hear this.”
He sighed. “Why do you want to know?”
I bit the inside of my mouth and thought about how to answer his question. “I’m just making small talk.”
“I’d rather—”
“Wait,” I interrupted him. “I just want to know who you are as a person. I promise not to judge you.”
“You’ve been judging me since the day you met me.”
A lump formed in my throat. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to judge you. I just want to know more about you. We all have a past, Morgan.”
“I’ll tell you something if you share some of yourself with me.”
“Me?” I asked, a little terrified.
“Yeah. It’s only fair, Race.”
“Okay. You’re on, but you go first.” I chickened out. I wanted to hear his big, dark secret about his past life before I’d divulge anything about myself.
He started to slather antibiotic salve across my palm, but I felt nothing, too distracted listening to him. “I got mixed up with the wrong kids in high school. It started off with small things and just being bored. Eventually, our reputation made it to some higher-ups in the neighborhood.”
“Higher-ups?” I asked, swallowing hard.
“Yeah. Chicago still has a lot of organized crime. One day, we ripped off a truck full of goods.”
“A truck?” I asked, looking down at him with my mouth hung open.
“An entire truck filled with electronics. We needed to sell the shit quick so we wouldn’t get caught. The fence we used told someone, who then told someone else, and it got back to the man running things in our neighborhood.”
“That doesn’t sound very good.” I stared down at his hands as he touched me with such tenderness that I became fixated.
“We were scared shitless at first, but once we met with the guy, we were excited. We were kids and dumb as hell, but we thought it was a great opportunity. Naturally, we were wrong, and we ended up arrested about a year later.”
“That doesn’t make you a bad guy, Morgan. It makes you a stupid kid.”
“Nah, baby. I’m a total asshole. I didn’t join the military out of some code of honor. I signed up because I didn’t want to sit in jail.” He pulled my hand up to his face and blew on the wetness.
Shivers ran down my spine as his breath skidded across my skin. “That doesn’t make you an asshole.”
“No,” he said, and grinned. “I’m just one naturally. I’m not the nicest person.”
I started to giggle. “Morgan, I’m a bitch. I embrace that side of me. As long as you know who you are, the rest doesn’t matter. I don’t think you’re an asshole anyway.”
“I have my moments, Race.” He opened the bandage and placed it over my palm, covering the wound.
“We all do.” I watched as he carefully covered my cuts, enthralled by his movements and the feel of him against me.
“All done,” he said as he patted my knees. Then he rested his hands on my legs.
“Thank you,” I whispered, trying to close my fists.
Crap. I’d be useless like this tomorrow.
Everything would be a fucking chore.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, tilting his head.
