Page 18 of The Truth of Our Past

“Nah, on second thought, I don’t think anyone will buy it. Who wants to smell like a sweating tower of stench.” I scrunch my nose and angle my head so he can see me.

“Oh, in that case…” Von picks me up and pitches me onto the floor. “I don’t share my bed with disrespectful dicks.” He leans over the side, grinning down at me.

His blue eyes aren’t icy today. They’re a calm ocean, begging me to swim in them. Von only speaks when he has something to say. I already know there’s so much more going on in his head than he’s willing to share. The opposite of me but with the same objective. I use lots of words but rarely have serious conversations because I don’t trust people with things they could use against me. But the playful side of Von fascinates me.

“I hope you don’t ever have an old dick in your bed—you could break his hip.” I make a point of rubbing my ass to deflect from the fact that his strength impresses me.

The sound of Von’s laughter fills the entire room, tumbling down the back of my throat as if it’s mine too. He has laugh lines.

Von has laugh lines. Never would’ve believed that. An excited bubble forms in my chest, uncovering this secret about him. The serious Viking smilesandlaughs.

Von swings his long legs off the bed and over me. “Coffee?”

I’d intended to sneak out before this, but now I can’t bring myself to leave. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

“You asked for it.” Von strides into the kitchen in his boxers and T-shirt. He said he has tattoos but I can’t see them. It’s not fair that he got to see my body, but I wasn’t in my right mind to see his.

I’m overdressed in his hoodie and sweatpants, sitting at the island while he grinds the coffee.

“Coffee is life in Sweden, and it’s an important part of the day to meet friends and enjoy a cup,” he says, and his arm muscle movements are mesmerizing.

I must be broken, watching his arm muscles. That’s such a sappy thing to be turned on by. No other guy can compare to him. Last night, I exposed my underbelly. I’m not giving him more ammunition with my attraction to him.

“I’m in it for the caffeine.” Twisting on my stool to annoy him, figuring out a way back to our antagonizing banter so I don’t do something stupid such as trying to sleep with him for real.

“You’re in for a disappointment, then. We drink for flavor and friendship, not caffeine.”

It takes half a lifetime for him to prepare the coffee, and the silence is killing me. Finally, he hands me a mug.

“I’m never going to Sweden. Caffeine’s crucial for my winning personality.” I smile at him over the mug, and he stares at me blankly for a few beats.

Von shakes his head. “Sweden would not know what to do with you.”

“I’m sure a few guys could figure it out.”

Von grimaces and I don’t know what to do with that reaction.

“I’m not that complicated,” I say defensively.

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for your depth.” Von takes a sip of coffee and groans. “American coffee cannot compare.”

I’m tempted to make a joke about my depth or his, but the normalcy this conversation stops me. As though we’re actually friends and I don’t need to be embarrassed that the man had torescue me from the rainstormandthe emotional storm raging inside me.

I have three and a half people in my life that I can count on. Maybe I’m up to four. Cole, Madyson, and Shane love me. Jayce is reliable because Madyson might castrate him if he ever left me hanging.

Von has a quiet steadiness to him that I believe he’d be a rock for me. So I stay, and we make small talk concerning the weather, the auction, his art, my tattoo shop, and whatever else pops into our heads.

I hear my phone in the other room, and according to the clock on the stove, we’ve been talking for a couple of hours. Light streams in through his floor-to-ceiling windows.

“I should go. I’m going to have to talk to Mads, and I’d rather do it before anyone else is there.” I head to the bedroom for my phone. “Do you mind if I wear this today? I’ll wash it and return it. My clothes are still damp.” I nudge the soggy pile with my foot.

“Madyson will know you’re wearing my clothes.” He motions to the logos that I’ve never seen before. It’s probably a Swedish brand that Mads has seen him wear.

“I won’t kiss and tell.” I laugh at the way his lips form a straight line. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine,” Von says, his bitable lip taunting me.

Chapter nine

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