Page 8 of Wrapped Up In You
This morning, he’d turned into something else again. The antsy, restless Hayden had been more what I was used to. But this sexy, flirty side…it left my head spinning and my cock hard.
My timer went off, and I crossed to the door to let Hayden back in. I opened it and turned without a word, leaving him to follow. The door slammed shut and he shoved past me, launching himself onto the couch and pulling the old afghan off the back to cover himself. He sat in a ball with the blanket wrapped around him, only his face poking out.
It was at that point I realized I was three sheets to the wind. Or maybe not quite. Two sheets then. One and a half. Final answer. I was one and a half sheets to the wind.
Teeth chattering, he said, “Truth or Dare?”
Concerned with how he might retaliate with a dare, I chose truth.
He made a production of thinking as if he was trying to decide which question would torture me the most. Finally, he asked, “Are you bisexual?”
What the fuck?I hadn’t seen that coming. I’d been more prepared for questions about Rebecca and the divorce. “Yes.”
“That’s it? Just ‘yes?’”
“What do you want me to say? It’s not something I’ve ever tried to hide.”
“Do Mom and Jon know?” he pressed.
“Of course.”
“Well,Ididn’t know.” His pout was adorable. No,notadorable. Annoying. Mostly.
I shrugged. “I came out in high school, long before you and I ever met.”
“I never saw you with a guy before Rebecca.”
“Did you see me with anyone before Rebecca?” I challenged.
He thought for a moment. “I guess not.”
“Rebecca’s the only person I’ve ever brought home. I prefer to keep my personal life private.”
“Even with your dad?”
“Especially with my father, yes.” My father was a hard man to please. He had strong opinions on nearly everything. I’d learned a long time ago that it was easier to hold my cards close to the vest rather than risk his judgment.
“Why with your father in particular?”
So. Many. Questions.
“I think it’s your turn.” I turned it on him. “Truth or Dare?”
“Aw, come on, Lucy!” Again, with the pout. He was killing me with that face.
I merely raised one eyebrow.
“Fine. After that last dare, I’m going with truth.”
“Alright.” I thought for a moment, though the whiskey was softening the edges a bit and making it a little harder to focus. “You didn’t answer my question last night. What kind of career do you really want?”
“I don’t recall that question.”
“Well, I don’t believe I phrased it exactly that way, but I asked about turning one of your hobbies into a career, and you changed the subject.”
“Maybe there’s a reason for that.” The playful light was gone from his eyes. Sober me would have probably let it go, but whiskey-infused me had to know.
“Listen, you chose the game. You chose truth.”
