Page 158 of Under the Bed

This and her evident trust.

There’s not an ounce of reprimand in her expression. In her voice.

Even though I lied to her. Even though I returned to the scene of the crime.

Even though I’m putting so much on the line.

Shiloh plays along.

A testament to the fact that I’ve done right by her every step of the way.

She needed my rough treatment. My cruelty. The pain.

She needed to see she could count on me from now until forever, and I did that.

Nothing made sense to her before I returned to her life.

Now it does. Now the pieces have fallen into place.

This is the best jigsaw puzzle we have ever completed. Ever.

“Okay. I’ll start over. But before we dive in, I have to point out that I’m a little out of my depth here.” Her teeth sink into her plump bottom lip.

Others might mistake her behavior for shyness.

I see it for what it is.

Seduction.

Needless, really. I’ve been hard since I heard her heels clicking on the other side of the door. Throughout the entire goddamn day.

I tilt my head to the side, and she gasps.

“I’m alone here. My professor”—she presses her knuckles under her eye, pretending to shed a tear over the bastard—“was viciously murdered last night.”

“I asked for you,” I deadpan, making a point to her and all the other bastards who are watching that no one is better than Shiloh.

This isn’t part of the game.

This is God’s honest truth.

For me, she’ll always be the smartest, sharpest, most perfect person in the room.

Always.

“Eddy, his TA, could assist me. I could call him in.” Oh, I see what’s happening here. My little sister is getting off on theaffirmations. She’s asking for more of my praise. “He’s right outside.”

“You.” I have words to offer her. So many of them. I’ll give her everything. Just not in the form of small talk. Of useless chit-chat.

She’ll have to try harder.

She’ll have to beg for it.

“Okay.” She presses a hand to her throat. I itch to lean forward, curl my fingers around it, and order her to do it again so I can feel the air flowing through it. “Well, let’s pick up where we left off yesterday. Just you and me.”

Yes, just us. Forever.

As my silence fills the room, she scribbles, the pen running over her legal pad. My name. The date. Documenting our session as any good professional would.

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