But I won’t.
“Yeah,” I answer her, silently steeling myself for a question I don’t want to answer. One Ican’tanswer without breaking down the wall I’ve built around us. “Truth Island.”
Tilting her head back, far enough to look at me, she gives me a flat smile. “Were you really an Eagle Scout?”
I stare down at her for a second, amused and relieved in equal measure. “Yes, Magnolia.” Loosening my arms, I let her go to fall flat on my back. Staring up at the ceiling, I bark out a laugh. “I was really an Eagle Scout.” Turning my head to look at her, I smile. “For purely selfish reasons, of course. It looked really good on my college applications.”
Her forehead puckers. “You went to college?”
“Yeah—I did.” I huff out a short, shitty laugh while trying very hard to not feel some type of way over her obvious surprise. “Averagely intelligent, asshole Deanwent to NYU on a partial ride. I have my BA in communicationsandan MBA. Go figure, right?”
Panicked, she sits up. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, looking down at me. “I didn’t mean to?—”
“Insult me?” Reaching up, I cup a hand around her bare breast. “Are you sure about that?” Brushing the rough pad of my thumb over her nipple, the corner of my mouth quirks when it stiffens under my touch. “We’re on Truth Island, remember?”
“I remember,” she tells me, her voice trembling slightly while she shifts beside me, pushing herself into my grip, the move so minute, I’m not even sure she knows that she’s doing it. “I’m not lying. I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“I think you did…” Holding her breast steady, I lift my head, bringing my mouth to within an inch of it. “I think you like what happens when you insult me, Mills.” I give her a soft, lingering kiss on the tip of my nipple. “I think you like the things I do to you when you hurt my feelings.”
Looking down at me, she shakes her head. “I don’t?—”
“So, youdon’tlike the things I do to you?” Looking up at her, I trace the tip of my tongue around her nipple, caught somewhere between amusement and something darker. Something that could tear apart everything I’ve spent the last three days building if I let it. “Now I’mreallyinsulted.”
“I don’t think you’re dumb.” Reaching out, Millie brushes her fingertips across my forehead. “I never thought you were dumb.”
“You never called medumb.” Feeling thatsomethingsettle in my chest, I let go of her to fall back on our shared pillow with a sigh. “You called meaveragely intelligent.”
“I never thought that either, not really,” she tells me with asmall, helpless flip of her hand. “I was just… intimidated by you.”
For a second, I don’t say a word. I can’t. All I can do is stare at her before I start to laugh. The second the sound of it leaves my mouth, I know it was a mistake. I know I fucked up because her face goes pale. Her jaw goes slack, right before it tightens like I just slapped her.
Turning away from me, she throws back the covers and lunges for the side of the bed like she suddenly can’t get away from me fast enough.
Shit.
Following her, I hook my arm around her waist before I can think better of it, and haul her back and under me, pinning her to the mattress, flat on her back. “I’m not laughing at you,” I tell her but she’s not listening. Intent on getting away from me, Millie starts to struggle. “Goddamnit, Millie—” My attempt at reasoning with her is cut short when she lands a sharp, stinging slap across my face. “Listen to me—” Catching her hand before she can slap me again, I pin it to the mattress, above her head. “I’m not laughing at you.”
“Oh?” Going still rather than fight a losing battle, she glares up at me, her expression a convoluted mixture of shame and indignation. “Then whatareyou laughing at?”
“Me.Us,” I tell her before I can think better of it. “This entire fucked-up situation.”
“Oh…” Something shifts in her expression, something that makes me want to put my head through the wall. “And what is it that you find so amusing aboutusand thisfucked-up situation?”
Shit.
Shitshitshitshit.
For a second, I don’t know what to say. Until now, I’ve been able to dodge them. The questions that the answers to woulddrag us out of my fucked up blanket-fort and force us to admit that this isn’t real. That this is all make-believe. That even though no one else is watching, we’re still pretending. “Millie…” Panicked now, I shake my head. “You won’t believe me. If I tell you, you won’t believe me.”
Staring up at me, she shakes her head back at me. “Truth Island, remember?”
“Alright…” I shift my gaze away from hers, landing it on her temple because even though she said it, I know. I know how this is going to go and I can’t look at her when it all falls apart. “I’m in love with you, Mills,” I confess quietly. “You want to know why I pay attention? Why I like fucking with you? It’s because I’vebeenin love with you since the day I met you and I don’t know how else to make you see me. I don’t?—”
“I saw you.” She whispers it, cutting me off with a confession of her own, the accusation in it undeniable. “I saw you, Dean.”
“What?” I shift my gaze to meet hers, my gut clenching hard enough to make me dizzy when I catch the unmistakable sheen of unshed tears. My brain starts to scramble, searching for something that would make sense of what she’s saying. “The other night—at the bar? I didn’t sleep with her. I saw you but even before that, IknewI couldn’t?—”
”No.” She shakes her head, the set of her mouth going flat and angry. “That night.”
