Page 123 of Heartbeats & Highways

“I do,” I said quietly. “He’s nothing like my husband. He might enjoy fighting, but with me, he’s been nothing but gentle. Tender.”

“You haven’t been together very long,” she murmured.

“The other shoe could drop, you mean?”

She nodded.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Cozy. Randall—my husband—was not a good man. He wasn’t able to hide his temper for long.”

“How old were you when you got married?”

“Seventeen.”

“Seventeen!”

I mentally smacked myself. I’d gotten so comfortable with Cozy I hadn’t been guarding everything I’d said. “I meant eighteen,” I said stiffly, trying to course correct.

“No.” She shook her head and met my eyes. “You slipped. You got married at seventeen? How is that even possible?”

I took a deep breath. “I told you my parents were really religious, right?”

She nodded.

“Well, my husband was religious too. And so they gave their parental consent for me to get married at seventeen.”

“Seventeen,” she murmured. “When I was seventeen, I was sneaking out of my bedroom window and running with the bad boys.”

“And your ex was a bad boy, wasn’t he?” I asked, desperately wanting to get the spotlight off me.

“A bad boy who was actually a really bad man. He was into drugs. I stayed when it was just pills and coke.” She swallowed. “I left when I found out it had turned into needles and unprotected sex with hookers.”

“Oh, Cozy.” I reached across the couch and grabbed her hand.

She gave mine a squeeze. “I was lucky. I could’ve gotten HIV or Hep. But thank God the tests came back clean. I made a promise to myself. That I wouldn’t play fast and loose ever again.”

“And you didn’t tell Roman because it’s a heavy topic.”

“I didn’t tell Roman because I’d have to tell him that I haven’t finished piecing my life back together yet. And even when I do, I’m not going to put myself in that kind of situation ever again.”

I frowned. “And that means, what exactly?”

“Marriage,” she blurted out. “I’m not having sex again until it’s with my husband. And I know how he’ll react when he finds that out.”

“You think he’ll bail,” I said.

“Whywouldn’the bail?” she asked. “What man would wait?”

“A ring is no guarantee that a man will treat you right either,” I said gently.

“So that’s it then? I’m fucked? And not in a good way?” She looked desolate.

“No.” I shook my head. “But we do have to judge each man individually. On their own merit. On their own actions. Don’t make the choice for Roman. Tell him the truth and let him decide if he can live with it.”

She arched a brow. “So you’re pushing me to be honest with Roman and let him choose how he deals with the truth, but you won’t tell Savage about your past? Why not? I mean, you’re certainly not tellingmeeverything. I know you’re only giving me little pieces of your story. Are you scared that Savage won’t love you anymore if he knows the truth?”

“My past is ugly.”

“So is mine. But you’re Savage’s Old Lady. Your situation is different.”

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