Page 80 of Lunar Diamonds
“I don’t want to hate you, Drake.” I slid back across the tiles a bit.
He cracked his knuckles. “I’d like to make it up to you.”
“How?”
“By listening, for a start. If you want to talk.”
Wow, the sweetness of it.
You are unjustly handsome, Mr. Parish.
I sniffled again, cooling down. “Okay. Anything to get out of this bathroom.”
A flicker of a smile crept to his lips, making my toes curl. I started to notice the hurt beneath his beauty, cracks in his veneer. I wanted to know more, to peel back the layers one by one.
“Meet me in the bedroom?” he said, nodding at the bathroom door.
My dirty mind fired off a couple of cheeky responses. At least they were better than anguish.
“Okay.” I got to my feet, head dipped. “See you in a minute.”
I scurried out of there, swaddled in humiliation and horniness.
My goodness, that body.
Drake sat on the bed,leaning back to rest on his palms. I occupied the sofa, facing him. He wore his same clothes, the plum shirt open halfway.
Rather than drool, I explained my attempt to run away. I felt ashamed, like I was a total fool.
“Understandable,” he said at the end of my spiel.
I crossed my legs. “Moment of panic. I’m not going anywhere, really. I know I have to face this, but it’s hard.” I sighed. “Ugh. This complaining. Poor me. Blah, blah, blah.” I gave my best eyeroll.
“This isn’t exactly a small revelation,” he responded.
I licked my bottom lip, the poor thing tender from all the chewing. “The worst part is being adopted. Not that being adopted is a bad thing, just a shock. You know?”
Drake nodded. “I’m sorry. That must be so hard.”
I blew out a long breath. “I’m talking too much.”
“Talk away.”
My tongue certainly loosened around him. “I get that she couldn’t tell me about myself—if she knows about the Aurora stuff. But being adopted? Why not tell me? Why hide it? Crap. I’m whining. I just…” I exhaled sharply. “Enough of this. There are worse things in the world. I’ll have this conversation with Isaac later. He’ll be going through the same thing.”
“I’m adopted, too.”
Oh. Unexpected. “You are?”
He sat forward. “I lost my parents when I was five. Twenty-three years ago.”
Guilt stabbed at my guts. “I’m so sorry.” Why did I have to whine so much about myself?
A flicker of sadness in his eyes. “Let’s not talk about that.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m here to listen to you.”
