“Who is Idris?” I demand.
Surprise flashes on her pretty face. “Nothing. Ignore it.”
“He’s obviously not ‘nothing’ since you were about to spend the weekend with him.”
She rolls her eyes, displeased by my insistence. Can she blame me for it, though? Doesn’t she think I’m entitled to an answer?
“Isn’t my word that I’m not sleeping around enough, Lex? Don’t you trust me?” she asks.
The problem isn’t trust. The problem is that as potent as this thing between us feels, it’s flimsy at best. It won’t take her long before she remembers we’re not meant to get along and moves on to someone better than me. And the more men she allows near her, the faster it’ll happen. And then what? I return to my boring, joyless life?
When I try to talk, my throat is tight with nervousness and anguish. “I’m not—It’s not the—”
I pause, cursing my uncooperative tongue. Words rarely fail me, but I can’t conjure one that could salvage this.
Something that resembles pity passes in her eyes. Without a word, she walks up to her nightstand and opens a drawer. She retrieves something small and pink from it and throws it toward me. I instinctively grab it as it lands on my chest. It’s a sex toy—the kind that only focuses on the clitoris.
“This is Idris,” she explains, her voice suddenly soft and compassionate. “Idris has been the only ‘man’ in my life, besides you, for almost a year.”
For a moment, I feel like the dumbest piece of shit that ever lived. That’s not something I’m used to.
But when I look at her and see the genuine care in her eyes and how hard she’s trying to respect my feelings and appease my fears, another kind of emotion takes over. One that has my chest tightening so hard that I can barely breathe.
I’m falling in love with this woman.
How could I not?
She stands there in her overalls and red sweater, having just thrown her sex toy at me. There’s not a doubt in my mind that she’s the most authentic, true-to-herself person I’ve ever met. She’s an open book, and I feel normal around her because she’s so easyto read she might as well have subtitles.
From the moment I met her, she’s always shown who she was, always been herself. And while some of it took a bit of time to grow on me, I now adore every single part she’s shown me, from her impulsivity to her insecurities.
Oblivious to the havoc wreaking my mind, she comes closer, still adamant about clearing the air between us.
“You need to trust me, Lex. I believe you when you say you won’t see anyone else, even though you probably have a swarm of willing women at your feet. The fact that you can’t bring yourself to believe me is honestly hurtful, and it will drive me away.”
“I believe you,” I finally state.
I’m apparently not as convincing as I thought because she feels the need to step closer and say, “Lex, I’ve never been fucked as good as you do. I won’t sleep around.”
“There’s more to life than sex. And you don’t even like me as a person.”
Despite the seriousness of the moment, she smiles. “I don’t like you very much when you accuse me of doing things in the dark with Oli. But otherwise, you’re growing on me.”
“Hm… I suppose the exposure therapy is working.”
“It really is. So much that even if I had men lining up at my door, I’d still choose you,baby,” she concludes, hooking her arms around my neck. The endearment has the same effect as when she first used it. My entire chest goes warm at it, small fireworks going off in my head.
“Even if I’m a possessive jerk?” I ask.
“As long as you’remypossessive jerk and you trust me, yes.”
I lower enough to give her a tender kiss. “I trust you.”
As if to seal the promise, she rises to her toes and kisses me harder. The following embrace is tender, sensual, and longing. We take our time, enjoying the moment and the closeness. Her proximity, warmth, and bed a few feet from us make me crave her.
I’m not the only one feeling that way since she pushes against me to make me sit on the mattress. She takes her sex toy from my distracted grip and throws it back into its drawer.
“Take your shirt off,” she commands, turning around to get something from her closet. I comply, unbuttoning my shirt. When she returns with a pair of scarves, I immediately understand what she has in mind. Really? Now?
