Page 26 of Truth
“Nice try, sweetheart. That was two questions.” Opening his eyes slowly, he rolls toward me, pinning me underneath and straddling me.
“No way, not fair.” My rebuttal is weak at best. I think it’s pretty obvious I like this game better.
“My turn, gorgeous. Truth or Dare?”
Biting my lip, I wrinkle my nose to feign irritation, when I actually feel the opposite. “What’s with you and the Truth or Dare? Do girls really eat this stuff up?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve only ever tried it on you, and seeing as I had such a fantastic result, I’d like to give it another go.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at his arrogance. “Truth. I’ll never pick dare. No way—I don’t trust you or myself.”
His laugh fills the room. “Fair enough. So, truth. Let me think of a good one.” Leaning down, he takes a nipple in his mouth, making a throaty moan come from me, then lets it go with a pop. “What’s your last name?”
“Matthews. You really are a lazy stalker.”
“I am, but I need to know you.” He kisses the tip of my nose as he dismounts my body to lie beside me.
“I’m an open book but only for twelve more hours or so,” I say, reaffirming the inevitable end of this affair.
“Ah yes, our ending. Well, I guess I’ll have to ask you everything I can, then.”
I smile at the thought of this Pandora’s box. I can already tell he is going to have more than one or two questions. “I’m an open book.”
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone…ever.” He snuggles into his pillow, and we lie face-to-face.
I narrow my eyes. “I’ve killed a man.” I try to make my voice as believable as possible.
“Me too.” His face is impassable, serious, his voice cold. We sit staring at each other until wrinkles form around his eyes from his smile. “Just kidding.”
“That’s not funny. You are too good at acting; you had me for just a minute.”
“And you lay here? You thought I was a murderer and you just lay here?” His laugh is disbelieving and makes me laugh too.
“Look, nobody’s perfect and you’re pretty good with that mouth…sooo.”
“Saucy, saucy woman.”
My yawn breaks free as King pulls me to him. I rest my head on his chest and listen to his breathing become steady and deep.
I drift, my eyelids drooping closed, my body feeling heavy and melting into King’s. As I fall deeper, a voice whispers into my dreams: “I’ll never find another you, so I’m never letting go.”
“WAS HE MEAN IN OTHERways?” He questions while drawing swirls with his fingertips along my collarbone. True to his word, he’s been asking me everything he can think of since we woke up around 11:00 a.m.
“No, just a self-esteem slayer. Well…I don’t know. Kind of.” I shrug, feeling sympathetic toward the girl I used to be. It seems so long ago even though it’s only been a weekend that I’ve been away.
Sitting up, his frown lines deepen. “What does ‘kind of’ mean.” His eyes are on me, looking for any visible representation of Nick’s cruelty.
“No, no like that. He didn’t hit me…it was just, he used sex as a weapon. I’ve never said this out loud. But once he squeezed my bottom especially hard and played it off like a sexy punishment. And he pinched my nipple so hard it left a bruise, all in the name of ‘angry sex,’ but it just felt mean and cruel. I told myself he would never really hurt me because I was so fragmented and desperate to make it work. I always felt so degraded, humiliated that I wasn’t stronger, more in control, but I believed he loved me. Wow, it feels good to say that out loud.” My burden had become my secret.
“So, he was mean in other ways.” His eyes are cold.
“Yes, he was. He could be cruel, but it was always masked as something else. I never realized it in the moment because of the manipulation, and hindsight wasn’t my friend because by then I wondered if I was overreacting or being overly sensitive. I’m damn glad to be done. I’ll never let another man put me on my hands and knees again.” He smiles at my last words, and I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I hope I get to meet him one day.” I’m pretty sure King isn’t looking for new friends. Nick better hope they never meet. A tiny part of me wishes they would.
Hoping to lighten the mood, I add, “Oh, hell no! That’s all I need is for you to start choking every ex-boyfriend I ever disliked.” I smirk, envisioning King on a rampage through my hometown.
“I will, with your permission of course. I’ll even say please.” I’m grateful for laughter, but his smile never quite reaches his eyes. I know he won’t forget this conversation.
