Page 30 of The Lies We Told Ourselves

Booker sighed and finally wrestled the plate from my hand. “But you don’t need to.”

He gathered up the dishes and carried them to the sink.

“Fine. But if you’re washing, then I’m drying,” I argued, grabbing a cloth from the countertop and walking to his side.

Booker sighed in exasperation. “Can you just stop trying to fight me on everything?”

“Probably not,” I admitted.

He snorted in amusement. It was fast becoming my favorite sound. “Just relax, please?”

It was possibly the first please he’d ever uttered in my presence, and I should have been a better person and appreciated it for the gesture it was. Instead, a wicked grin slipped across my lips, and I pulled out a Booker classic.

“No.”

I turned to the sink and waited, but he didn’t start washing. Instead, he turned to face me and leaned a hip against the sink.

“You’re infuriating. Did you know that?”

“Coming from you, that’s an achievement.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You realize you’re the most infuriating person to ever walk the planet, right?”

“You’re the one who won’t accept that you’re hurt?”

“I’m not hurt!”

“If I wasn’t a decent human being, I’d dig a knuckle right into your ribs,” he snapped back.

“Well, I wish you weren’t!”

Booker’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What?”

“Will you just shut up and kiss me already, Booker!”

His head snapped back in surprise, and then a slow smile slid across his lips. “Thank fuck,” he muttered, grabbing hold of my waist and hauling me into his body as his mouth landed on mine.

My arms wrapped around his neck as I clung to him, letting him dominate the kiss in complete contrast to how gently his hands cradled me. Booker nipped at my bottom lip, soothing the skin with his tongue, which he pushed into my mouth to stroke along mine. All the while, his hands made a slow trail down my sides until he cupped them under my ass cheeks and lifted me up, erasing the fraction of a gap between us.

I took my time, tracing my fingertips across the muscles of his back as we kissed, making him shudder beneath me.

“We should stop,” Booker murmured, his mouth moving to my neck as he nipped at the skin.

“No. We definitely shouldn’t stop,” I gasped as he ran his tongue up my neck and sucked the lobe of my ear between his lips. “I don’t want to stop.”

“But you really are hurt,” he whispered against my skin as he ducked down and kissed along my chest where the neckline of my tank top lay.

“Please don’t treat me like I’m broken, Booker. I want you. I want every single piece you’re willing to give. It’s not because I think I owe you something, and it’s not because I’m trying to get something from you. You’re a wonderful, beautiful man, Booker. Why wouldn’t I want that in my life if I get a chance?”

Booker straightened to his full height, his hand pushing the blond hair away from my face.

“All I want to do is protect you,” he told me softly. “It would kill me if I hurt you.”

Booker cradled my cheeks in his hands and kissed me softly.

“You won’t hurt me, Booker. I trust you.”

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