Page 112 of The Broken Heart Playlist
Gideon is still waiting, making no attempt to persuade me either way, leaving the decision up to me.
Without a word, I hold out my other hand. I hear his breathing quicken in excitement.
He doesn’t say anything as I sense him push to his feet and move around to the back of my chair, tying my hands firmly behind my back, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough that it’s difficult for me to break free. He is as skilled at scarf tying as he is at tying my emotions in a knot.
I’m blindfolded and my hands are tied behind my back. I feel painfully vulnerable.
As Gideon reclaims his seat in front of me, it comes to me then that the man has a habit of consistently outflanking me. Maybe, just maybe, I was right in my thinking and this whole exercise or game or whatever you want to call it is a lesson intrust. Specifically, to trusthim. The very thing I have trouble giving—my trust—is the one thing he’s asking of me.
It’s a big ask.
My breathing is choppy, as unstable as the beating of my heart. With each passing second, my decision is starting to feel like a terrible mistake.
As if he senses the turmoil swirling inside me, Gideon asks softly. “You want a safe word, Kate?”
I take a steadying breath. “Yes, please.”
“Just say this word and the game stops immediately. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“The safe word isKatherine.”
My mouth drops open. His deviousness floors me. “You bast—!”
He presses a finger against my lips. “Uh-uh, that’s not the safe word.”
“I want another one.”
“Nope. It’s not your game.”
Once again he’s outflanked me, choosing the one word I hate and refuse to utter. But at least my annoyance has nudged aside my fears. I chew the inside of my cheek. Is that his intention? I swipe left on that thought. Now I’m giving him too much credit. There’s no way he knows me that well.
“Let’s try this again,” he says. “First food item.”
Something is placed against my lips and I open my mouth to taste it. Triumph shoots through me. I know exactly what this is.
“Strawberry.”
“Yes.”
I swallow the sweet fruit. “Starting off easy?”
“Just reeling you in.”
I smile.
The next item touches my lips and I take it in, chewing slowly.
“Cucumber.”
“Correct.”
I’m preening a little, quietly congratulating myself as I lick the taste of cucumber off my lips.
After a moment, I realize how still he is, how he hasn’t offered me my next food item.
“Gideon?”
