Page 86 of Sin Bin Daddies
“I get what you mean,” she says.
“You and your parents didn’t get along?”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s not like that. I mean, I get wanting something a bit different from what’s expected of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You remember that one-night stand I told you I had.”
“Yes.”
“Well, he’s the one who gave me hickeys the day before you came to my apartment.”
That means it was more than a one-night stand. “Okay,” I say gently. “Are you also dating him?”
“No. I mean, we never dated, really.”
Something in her tone tells me that this was not her decision.
Then something shifts.
Her fingers still. Her lashes lower, shielding her expression, but not before I catch it—the flicker of something dark, something heavy.
I reach across the table, take her hand in mine. Her skin is warm, her pulse a faint thrum beneath my thumb as I brush it over her wrist. “What?”
She swallows, gaze dropping to the table.
“Maddie.”
Her breath shudders, and when she looks up, her eyes aren’t soft anymore. They’re shadowed, filled with something that twists deep inside me.
Then, finally, she speaks.
“It was Leo.”
Her voice doesn’t shake, but I see the tension in her shoulders, the way she holds her napkin too tightly as she tells me about the one-night stand and everything that has followed since.
Something black and vicious coils in my gut. My jaw locks.
She sees it, her fingers curling around mine. “Promise me you won’t tell Asher.”
I exhale sharply, my grip tightening. “Maddie?—”
“Please.”
She’s looking at me like she needs this. Like she needs me to let it go. I nod once, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Nothing about this feels like enough.
I stand, dropping cash on the table. “Come on.”
She frowns. “Where are we going?”
“Just… come with me.”
The beach is empty, the water dark and endless beneath the moonlight. I park, cutting the engine.
She doesn’t move at first, just sits there, watching me. And then, slowly, she unbuckles her seatbelt.
I reach for her the second she’s within arm’s reach, pulling her onto my lap. She gasps, her hands bracing against my chest, her dress riding up over her thighs.
