Page 30 of Ruined Vows

“I don’t know. I’m dozing. I’m not used to people in the bed with me getting up to take a shower in the middle of the night.”

“What do the men in bed with you usually do?”

Again, I’m immediately embarrassed. I don’t usually have men in bed with me at all, middle of the night or otherwise.

“Why are you still talking to me? You already woke me up. Let’s just go back to sleep already. It’s an ungodly hour.” I plump my pillow in aggravation and shut my eyes.

“Love to,” comes his gruff reply.

The mattress creaks as he stretches out beside me. Long minutes tick by. I’m not sleeping, and I can tell by the fact that he’s not snoring yet that neither is he.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks.

“Not if you keep talking to me,” I snap.

“Are you nervous about your engagement thing tonight?”

“I wasn’t, but thanks for reminding me.”

“What’s your fiancé like? Dougal? Dalton? Something pretentious like that, right?”

“It’s Drew,” I grouse. “And he’s not pretentious. He’s kind. And refined. Not that you’d know anything about that.”

Isaak snorts. “You think being refined is something to brag about? Must be nice to be part of the one percent.”

“Jesus, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant he has manners. He opens the door for me. Sends thank-you notes when he gets gifts. When was the last time you sent a thank you note?”

“Does a day after thanks-for-the-ride text count?”

“Thank you for making my point.”

“I’m just a man, honey. And plenty think me a gentleman ’cause I don’t ghost.”

“But you don’t want to make an honest woman out of any of them, either, do you?”

He laughs under his breath. “What century are we in?”

I breathe out and lean my head back against the pillow. I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. Sometimes I say things and only realize after that I sound exactly like my mother, which is beyond horrifying.

The area I’m about to become a Ph.D. in is literally all about destigmatizing old ways of thinking about sex and cultural mores. I thought I’d deconstructed my thinking about all this shit. But then I go to a place likeCarnalor spend time with Isaak and find my stomach all in knots, all turned on.

I’m a stereotypical hypocrite. So, I’m exactly what I was born to be.

“I’m tired,” I whisper. “Can we just sleep?”

He’s quiet and, after a moment, whispers back, his rough voice all but a caress in the night. “Yeah. Sorry, Red.”

Which has me all but twisting in the sheets with longing and sexual need. But then, I always did have a thing for the tortured bad boys, didn’t I?

TEN

ISAAK

Again,I wake up to red hair flung across my chest. She snores gently, her arm thrown over my abs.

I close my eyes and breathe her in without meaning to. Usually I want women gone in case I have one of my nightmares. I keep everyone in my life at arm’s length.

I suppose I should have been afraid about my nightmares, sleeping with Kira. But if I have to be asleep while I’m guarding her, I want her within arm’s reach in case something happens. Only beingrightbeside her feels close enough.

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