Page 12 of Doughn't Let Me Go

I hear the words leave my mouth, and my shoulders go back.

Fuck.

What is up with me tonight? I’m not usually one to be so…open. I’m not the Chatty Cathy kind of gal in general, but I’m usually even more reserved around strangers.

Except Porter, apparently.

“Bad day?” he asks, downing the last of his beer, then turning his attention to rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

The way he says it is innocent and easy, and it’s almost like he knows chatting up strangers isn’t my usual thing.

I watch him pull the material up, then fold it. The muscles in his forearms jump, and I have to wonder what line of work he’s in that has led him to have such banging forearms and dress so fancy.

“Bad couple years,” I find myself admitting, absorbed in watching him roll the other sleeve up.

“Fuck, I hear you there.”

The dirty word leaving his lips makes my breath hitch, and I hope he doesn’t hear it.

The glance he gives me tells me otherwise.

“Bad couple years for you too?” I ask, hoping to distract him.

“You have no idea.” He finishes rolling his sleeves, then swivels toward me. “I have an idea—let’s play a game.”

“A game?”

“For points, obviously.” He winks. “Let’s play Truth or Lie.”

“Hmm…I like this. And with you being a complete stranger, it’ll be a real challenge.”

“Exactly.”

“But how will I know if you’re lying about it being a truth or a lie?”

He grins. “Guess you’re just gonna have to trust me.”

Trust.

That’s a hard word for me.

But so far I’ve trusted Porter to not murder me, so I guess playing a simple game won’t hurt anything.

“You in?” he asks.

“I’m in.”

“Excellent.” He rubs his hands together. “If you guess correctly, you get a point. I’ll go first.”

“Wait!”

“Waiting.” He grins.

“Our points—what can we cash them in for?”

“Kisses.”

His answer is automatic. So confident, so sure. Like it was waiting on the tip of his tongue, ready to roll off at any second.

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