“I didn’t suck his cock,” she said, her voice kindasmall.
It was pathetic, probably, how relieved I felt to hear that. I knew she’d been with Zane, once, years after that. But if she’d actually sucked his cock at that point, it would’ve meant she’d done it when she was sixteen and barely knew him, and for whatever reason I really didn’t want that to betrue.
The server approached and laid out our meals. When he was gone, she said, “This looksgood.”
I ignored the food. I hadn’t taken my eyes off her, and she was starting to look uncomfortable with the attention. Her posture had softened up a bit, but she still lookedtense.
“You once asked me if I wanted to fuck you,” Isaid.
Her eyes flashed up tomine.
“Actually, you asked me twice. The first time, I said yes. The second time, I said no. That was alie.”
Her gaze dropped. She picked up her fork and started poking at the veggies on the side of her plate. “I’m sensing a pattern here.” She sounded bored, and like she wanted me to stoptalking.
“I once told you I’d never get overyou.”
Her eyes met mineagain.
“I said ‘some guys’ would never get over you. Some bullshit like that. But by ‘some guys’ I meant me. I figured you knew that,though.”
She stared atme.
“But that was a lie, as it turned out,” I finished. “I got overyou.”
Yeah, so maybe I was needlingher.
Pokingher.
Wasn’t her fault that sitting across a table from her had me so off-kilter. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to make it all that comfortable for her,either.
Had enough time since we fucked a couple nights ago to think things through. Think about how I wanted to fuck her again, yeah. But also, think about a lot of other things. Like the way things had gone down between us in the past. Things I’d learned about her—the hardway.
Time had passed,yes.
We’d both changed, maybe, and maybe we’d both stayed thesame.
But she wanted to be in my life now, in any way—even just working with Dirty—I was gonna make damn sure she knew she wasn’t gonna playme.
She put the cloth napkin that had been on her lap on the table and said, “Maybe this dinner was amistake.”
“Why?”
She stood, and I reached for her. I wrapped my hand around her wrist. She looked away, her jawhardening.
“Roni.”
She looked down at me, at my hand on her wrist. “This,” she said, and her eyes flashed to mine. “Between us. This is just sex,right?”
“Sitdown.”
She sat, but she shook my hand off herarm.
“Maybe we should be clear,” I said. “Maybe I gave you the wrongidea.”
“What, the flowers and the dinner and the creepy conversation? What kind of wrong idea could I possibly get fromthat?”
“Not the dinner. The other night. I should’ve been clear, up front. I’m not looking for more thansex.”
