“Every time since that first night, I could tell.”
“I thought I did such a good job,” I say with a pout. “And it’s part of the reason. I’m sorry, Tucker.”
He chuckles and runs his hand over my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear. It’s such an affectionate gesture, and I want nothing more than to kiss him. To show him he’s safe to let me in more than he has. I need him to know that I have no intention of hurting him.
Then again, the way we’re lying could be considered cuddling. Which he doesn’t do. Maybe there is hope after all.
“That’s why I accidentally got you drunk. I planned to only get you buzzed so you’d open up, but I didn’t count on how much of a lightweight you are.”
“I kind of figured out you were the one behind it. But I don’t know why. You could’ve just asked.”
He chuckles, but it’s one of those humorless ones he does so often. “No, I couldn’t. You stopped talking to me. You’d lieand say you were fine when I knew you weren’t. And it wasn’t just in the bedroom.”
“I suppose you have a point.”
“You started getting quiet. It kind of freaked me out. I wanted to get you talking again.”
Now, I’m the one to laugh without humor. “Most people would pay me to shut up.”
“It took some getting used to, but I like when you talk. And it was kind of nice knowing you wanted to get to know me even when I made it known I didn’t want to answer anything. No one has wanted to know me in a long time. I’m just not an easy man.”
“So, your solution to find out my deepest secrets was to get me drunk?”
Groaning, he sighs. To be honest, I’m not exactly a fan of his interrogation method. It makes everything feel so messy and disconnected. Not how I imagine a relationship should be.
“I didn’t mean to get you drunk. And I only wanted to know what I did to upset you. It’s been horrible thinking I’m killing your spirit. But I had to know. And if you’d said that’s what I was doing, I’d have figured out how to let you go. It’s the last thing I wanted to do, but I would have, if I had to.”
He’s right. I hate to admit it, but he is. I wouldn’t have told him the truth. “I understand. I don’t like the method, but I get it.”
“You still haven’t told me. Not the full reason. Please don’t tell me I’m dimming your light.”
“It was partially the thought of you with your escort. But it was the leaving right afterwards. That bothers me, but I know it’s kind of what you need; plus, now I know why.”
“I’ll do better,” he whispers.
His fingers massage my scalp, and I close my eyes as the relaxing tingles help ease the ache. It’s such an unromantic touch that feels incredibly intimate.
Tucker Vega. A man who is nothing but contradictions.
“I have a question for you.”
His voice is quiet, and my defenses go up against my will. “What’s that?”
“Your tattoo… Is that why you’re terrified of the basement?”
How does he know about my tattoo? He’s never seen me naked. Has he? Did he see it last night? He said we didn’t have sex, and I woke up mostly clothed. “Kind of.”
“Can you tell me?”
My heart races as memories try to flood my mind that I keep locked up behind the door of my brain, and my vision blurs. “No,” I whisper. “I’m sorry. Please don’t make me—”
“Shh,” he says, wrapping his arms tighter around me. “You don’t have to tell me. I hope you’re ready one day, but I won’t make you. Just promise me something.”
He’s not making me tell him, so he gets whatever he wants. “Anything.”
It’s the moment I know trying to keep a shield up to protect my heart is pointless. I’m drowning in love with him.
“If I ever do something that triggers you—anything that makes you think about the basement—tell me. I’ll stop immediately. No hesitation or questions.”
