“Tell me about yourself, Drew.” This time I could tell the words came out as I’d intended for them to—low and as sexy as I was capable of making anything sound. I hoped Drew heard them the same way.
“What do you wanna know?” His voice was low too and huskier than usual.
“Everything.”
As he thought, Drew’s tongue slipped out of his mouth and over his lips, but he didn’t say anything right away. I wasn’t sure if he was overwhelmed or just unsure of where to start.
“I’m not letting you off the hook.”
“Didn’t think you would,” he replied with a smile. “I wanna know about you too.”
His eyes never strayed from mine, and it somehow felt like we were silently communicating all the things we never got the chance to say to one another.
I was just about to tell him he didn’t really have to tell me everything or that we could do this another time—though that was definitely not me letting him off the hook—when he spoke up.
“Never have I ever had a family holiday where someone didn’t fist fight.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was choosing to turn this into a game. It no doubt made him feel more comfortable and probably brought a lightness to my request that wouldn’t have been there otherwise.
“Your family really has physical altercations at every holiday?”
“Well, maybe not every one. I’m sure there was a Flag Day or something that we missed. It’s a blast,” he said dryly. “You’ll have to come check it out sometime, fiancée.”
I rolled my eyes. “That was your fault.”
“Most things are,” he answered. “I’m okay with it. You’re up.”
I wanted to tell him that wasn’t true, but I knew better than to try to convince Drew not to get down on himself.
“Never have I ever slept with an ex.”
“Shouldn’t we get something to drink?”
“No alcohol for you until you’re completely off the painkillers, right? We can play with our fingers.”
His eyes widened, and I wondered when I’d learn to think before I spoke. Sighing, I tried to clarify.
“It’s how the kids I used to babysit for played. You hold up five fingers, and every time you’ve done something that someone says, you put one down. First one without any left loses.”
“I like it.”
“Guess we’re both at four now,” I said.
“You’re at four. I’ve still got a full hand.”
I knew I looked surprised, but there wasn’t anything I could do to hide it. “You never fucked one of your exes?”
“Whoa, what’s with the harsh language? It sounds so dirty when you say it like that.”
I gave him a shove with my free hand before recognizing it probably hurt way more than I’d meant for it to. I never seemed to remember just how fragile Drew was.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he said. “I didn’t say I never wanted to, just that I never have.” He let his comment settle between us before saying, “My turn. Never have I ever applied to college.”
“That’s totally not fair. You already know I have.”
“Better put another finger down, then.”
I put another down so there were only three left.
“Fine. But two can play that game. Never have I ever peed standing up.”
“Wrong. Everyone does when they’re babies in a diaper. Go again.”
“Never have I ever…” I looked around the apartment for some sort of inspiration, but nothing I looked at sparked any good ideas. “Never have I ever liked living with a guy before you.”
Drew looked pleased at the compliment. “Remember the first few days when we were arguing about everything and driving each other nuts?”
“I remember.”
“Guess we’ve come a long way since then,” he said.
And I had to agree.
Drew put a finger down. “Guess I should play fair. I liked the two roommates I’ve had before you, and both were guys.” Drew bit down on his bottom lip as he thought about what his next statement would be. “Never have I ever been to another country.”
I put down a finger. “I’ve been to so many, I don’t think I could name them all.”
“Sometime you’ll have to try eventually,” Drew said, and I could tell he meant it.
“Deal,” I told him with a smile that felt sad somehow. “Never have I ever been good at math.”
“I was pretty good at it as a kid,” he said, dropping his fingers down to three. “Never have I ever fantasized about a man.”
He smirked as I put a finger down.
“You’re such a cheater.”
“Was it me?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“That you fantasized about.”
“This isn’t how the game is played,” I replied in an effort to avoid the question.
His stupid dimples let me know he knew exactly what I was doing.
“Never have I ever fantasized about a woman.”
One more finger went down, leaving him with two and me with one.
“Never have I ever been as happy as I am when I’m with you.” His eyes darted to my hand as he clearly waited to see if I felt the same. When my finger stayed up, he said, “Never have I ever wanted someone as much as I want you.”
I wanted to ask him why he was doing this. Why was he telling me how he truly felt if he had no plans of acting on those feelings?
But instead I said, “You can’t do two in a row.”
“I did, though.”
“I think you should be disqualified,” I joked, trying to ease the tension.
“Nah, your turn. You can just forget about the last one.”
I was sure Drew didn’t realize the implications of telling me to forget about what he’d just said. He’d meant to forget it in regards to the game. But asking me to forget what he’d said was like telling a jury to disregard evidence they’d heard so they could make a fair and unbiased decision.
It was too late. I couldn’t unhear that, and I didn’t want to.
I just wondered if I’d ever get to say it back.
Chapter Sixteen
S O P H I A
I came home from class to find Drew packing boxes with various things.
He was whistling happily as he plopped pain relievers, condoms, and other collegiate necessities into some boxes and formula and burp cloths into another for one of our nonstudent clients. That part of the business hadn’t taken off as much, but we were starting to see growth in the new-mom circles.
“Hey,” I said warily, worried he’d been body-snatched or something. Granted, he’d been in a much better place lately, but whistling—was that a Taylor Swift song?—was maybe a bit extreme. “How was your day?”
“Pretty good,” he replied, offering me a smile before returning his attention to his work. “My physical therapist talked to my doctor, and they both agreed that I could start bearing more weight on my leg. I’ve been doing that with my PT for a while, but it’ll be nice to be able to do it all the time. No full-out walking, and I still need to use the crutches, but I don’t have to keep all weight off it.”
“That’s great news,” I said, happy to see him happy.
He’d been making steady progress over the previous weeks. His arm now only needed a brace, and most of his bruises were totally gone. There were still a few purplish and raised scars, but overall, his leg was really the only major injury left to contend with.
“Need help?” I asked as I sat beside him on the couch.
“I don’t think so,” he replied. “I only have two more boxes to go.”
“’Kay.” I settled in and watched him.
Things between us were getting better every day, and while I wasn’t sure what we were moving toward, I did know we were moving forward. So I didn’t stress about letting my eyes linger on him. I didn’t care if he noticed the way I tracked his movements with obvious appreciation.
&
nbsp; It was fine if he noticed the million little reasons I found to touch him and be near him every day. Life was good, and time spent with Drew was even better. I wasn’t going to pretend to believe a different truth.
“How was class?” he asked.
“Riveting,” I said dryly.
He looked over at me, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
“I think I hate one of my professors.”
“You’re not sure?” He looked amused, which made me smile.
“He wears tweed jackets with elbow patches.”
“Is that the reason you hate him or the reason you’re not sure?”
“Yes.”
Drew laughed aloud at that. “You’re so weird.”
“I seriously can’t tell if he’s a pretentious prick or an endearing grandfather. Though with the comments he left on my last paper, I’m leaning toward the former.”
“Eviscerated your writing, huh?”
“He said I lacked creative insight but complimented me on my knowledge of proper comma usage.”
“Ah, I see your predicament.”
We fell into companionable silence while he finished packing the last of the materials that would be delivered by Cody later. After he closed the final box and set it aside, he leaned back on the couch, which brought his shoulder into contact with mine as we sat side by side.
“How’s your arm?” I asked, unable to keep my fingers from tracing over his brace and then up and down his arm.
“Feeling better every day.”
“That’s good.”
“I’ll probably be able to get out of your hair soon. We’re pulling some decent money in, and I’m almost done with being an invalid.”
I felt a pang in my chest that nearly made me wince.
“Sounds like you’re in a hurry to leave.”
He paused for a second, but I didn’t look up at him, preferring to focus on something immovable and secure.
“Not really. But I figured I was starting to overstay my welcome.” His statement sounded like a question and had me wanting to be completely honest, even if it also made me feel extremely vulnerable.
I shook my head slightly. “I like having you around.”
He breathed deeply. “I like being around.”
At that, I did look up at him, my eyes locking on his with intensity. It made me grateful when I saw the same want and passion I felt reflected back at me.
He wanted this, me, us, just as much as I did, and contentment washed over me at the realization that we were finally on the same page, emotionally and physically.
“Then stay.”
Rather than utter a promise with words, he used his lips instead. He brought his mouth to mine with a slowness typically reserved for replays of sports highlights. It was both frustrating and arousing.
Mostly arousing.
The second his lips touched mine, we both groaned. It was the kind of sound someone made after a long day at work when they finally got to relax into the couch. It sounded like coming home.
We pressed closer together, his good hand cupping my jaw and angling my head so he could deepen the kiss.
I fisted my hands in his T-shirt like I was never going to let him go. Maybe I wouldn’t.
His tongue danced with mine, a dirty grind that moved to a primitive rhythm. His hand moved from my face and trailed lightly down my arm, causing pinpricks to bloom on my skin. It heightened my arousal, creating a pulse in time with the thrust of his tongue into my mouth.
My hands untangled from his shirt enough to dive beneath it, sliding under the hem and rubbing over the coarse hair that led down from his navel. He was thinner than he’d been before, but he wasn’t frail. It made me want to touch him with more fervor so I could remind my senses that he wasn’t broken.
He was strong and solid and here.
We were both panting, and it would’ve been easy to let the moment build to a crescendo. To let the fire between us burn until we both combusted. But those feelings were fleeting. I needed something else first. Something that would let me know I could count on this. That I could rely on its permanence.
“Wait,” I said abruptly as I pulled away from him.
He jerked back as if someone had told him I was a live wire. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said, receiving a skeptical look in return. “I just…I need to know.”
“Know what?”
I looked intently into his eyes, hoping forcing him to answer the question he’d previously evaded didn’t push him away.
“I need to know why you left. The full reason,” I quickly added as he opened his mouth to reply.
He hesitated for a moment, and I watched indecision flit across his face. Then, his look transformed into something more akin to determination. And he promptly rose from the couch, grabbed his crutches, and limped away.
D R E W
I’d cowardly hoped I could avoid this question forever. But Sophia deserved an answer, so I needed to give her one. Unfortunately, I didn’t quite know how to explain the rush of feelings I’d been assaulted by that day, all of which had continued to fester in the guilt and regret that had consumed me every minute since I’d left her.
I hobbled over to the table by the hallway and retrieved my wallet before returning to the couch and easing down beside her. She looked at me curiously, but I stayed quiet as I took the check from my wallet and handed it to her.
Sophia looked at the paper in my hand before tentatively reaching out and taking it from me, unfolding it as if it were some kind of bomb. And perhaps that was exactly what it was. It’d blown things apart for us months ago and might very likely do so again.
As she read it, her forehead creased and her eyes narrowed.
“What the hell is this?” Her voice was harsh and demanding, but I didn’t miss the wobble of emotion in it.
“It’s what it looks like it is.”
“My dad gave this to you the day you left?” she asked, though she had to know the answer.
I chalked it up to shock.
“Yeah, he told me I’d never be good enough for you and gave me that to go away.”
Sophia sat there for a moment, looking over the check as if it would somehow magically say something different if she stared at it long enough.
“But you didn’t cash it.” It wasn’t a question.
“No, of course not.”
“So you left me for free?”
I couldn’t control the scoff that escaped. “Free? Leaving you cost me everything. Everything that mattered at least.”
“But…I’m so confused. Do you plan to cash it? Or did you before the accident?”
“No.” The word ripped out of me. I had no place to feel offended since this whole mess was my fault, but I did anyway.
“Then why do you still have it?”
I sighed. Her voice was smaller and more wounded than it had been when this conversation began, and I hated that I’d made her feel that way.
“Because I wasn’t sure what your dad would tell you. And I wanted to have proof that I didn’t take his money. I’d never do that.”
One side of her face contorted as if she were completely confused. “Why would it have even mattered? Either way, you left. You may as well have taken the money if you were just going to skip out on me anyway.”
“I… What?”
Sophia stood from the couch and began pacing in front of me. “You’re really an idiot, you know that?”
“Uh, yes?” I asked, because I did know it but wasn’t sure how it applied to this moment.
“Like really, epically, you should win an award type of stupid.”
“Okay,” I stated more firmly because I didn’t want to argue with someone who looked like they were contemplating skinning me alive.
Suddenly, she stopped moving and threw her hands up. “If you weren’t going to take the money, why did you leave?”
“Just because being bought off didn’t appeal to me doesn’t mean what he said
wasn’t true. I’m not good enough for you. You deserve someone who can give you so much more than I’ll probably ever be able to give you. But I’m also fairly certain no one will love you more than I do, and I’m starting to think that might be enough. At least I’m hoping it is.”
She stared at me for a long moment before tilting her head toward the ceiling and yelling, “Extraordinarily fucking stupid!” Then she took two steps forward and dropped onto the couch, burying her face in her hands.
It took me a second to realize she was shaking, and I wanted to re-break my own leg for making her cry.
“Hey, Soph, Jesus, I’m so, so sorry. If I could take it all back, I would.” I slid closer so I could put my arm around her, but that’s when she lifted her head, allowing me to see that she wasn’t crying. “Are you…are you laughing?”
That set her off with renewed vigor, her hearty laughter making tears leak from her eyes. After a minute or so, she calmed enough to speak, though her words still came in gusts between chuckles.
“So, let me get this straight. Not only did you leave me for the most clichéd reason ever, but you also just seriously told me you loved me in the most blasé way possible. You are such a douche sometimes.”
I would’ve been insulted by her assessment of both my character and my timing, but she was still laughing, so I decided it was best not to rock the boat.
“It wasn’t clichéd. It was honest. I just wanted you to be happy.”
“So you made me miserable?”
“I figured that was temporary. Eventually you’d meet someone else and forget all about me.”
That dried her laughter up, and my brain began whirring with ways to backpedal. She leaned closer, and my mind screamed Abort! Abort!, but with a busted leg, there was no way I’d be able to get away quickly enough.
“You know what? I can’t even address that right now. There’s only one thing I need you to tell me, and I need you to be honest about it.”
“Okay, yes, I can do that.”
She released a short puff of air before putting her hand on my cheek and letting her fingers tease over my skin.
“Are you done making decisions for me?”
“Yes. Especially since I seem to be really bad at it.”
Truth or Dare You (The Love Game Book 2) Page 12
