Page 92 of Ice Wolf
“How can you tell?”
“There’s no life in your house. No plants. No pictures of your family.”
I shrugged and used brute strength to shove the box into the full bag. “I haven’t had the time to really decorate the way I want.”
“How long have you owned the house?”
“Two years.”
She chuckled. “Let me guess. You still have boxes laying around.”
My laugh was short lived. “It doesn’t feel like home. Not really.” The admittance was odd as I’d purchased the house because I needed to do something with the excessive money I’d earned. “Maybe you can give me some pointers.”
“With all the money you make, I think you can afford to hire a decorator.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
The tension was higher, more so than usual and I was the cause of it. “Lily, about what I said.”
She threw up her hand. “I don’t need to hear it, Saint. We’re not engaged except in the press. We’re not even dating. And this living together thing is a nightmare I created with my own caustic mouth. You don’t need to explain it to me. I’m an adult. I’m just another conquest in a long line of them. You’re a playboy and you do it with flair. All I ask is that you don’t make me look like a fool. I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime. Okay?”
The sudden sense of vulnerability caught me off guard. She was such a strong woman, but I reminded myself she’d been snubbed by a jerk who’d ignored the incredible beauty by his side.
“Can I finish now? Please?”
Every time she was flustered it was because of something I’d said or done. I Around her, I felt guilty all the time. Something else I’d never felt with another woman.
“Sure.”
My tongue was suddenly tied, my hands clammy. I had no clue how to make her feel better. I grabbed two beers, popping the tops without saying a single word. That created additional tension.
She remained silent as I handed her the bottle, jerking back the moment our fingers touched.
“I’ve never had a steady girlfriend, unless you count dating the principal’s daughter for a few months in high school. I never wanted a relationship. Nothing against them. My parents are happy, but it just wasn’t me. The playboy thing is mostly like everything else about me. Fake.”
The way she tipped her head meant she didn’t believe me.
“I liked being in the club. Women on my arm, puck bunnies tossing their panties at me.” I laughed and when she frowned, her nose crinkled up. She had no idea how sexy she was without even trying.
“You don’t need to tell me this. Quite frankly, I don’t need to know how accomplished you are in the bedroom.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. The few women I’ve been with were fun, don’t get me wrong, but being with them never felt right. Like I was missing something. I couldn’t put my finger on why, so I kept playing around. It gets old real quick. And lonely.” I took a long pull on my beer, more awkward than I’d been as a teenager. “What I’m trying to tell you is that I didn’t want to be the kind of guy to screw around on a girl.”
“So you just screwed all of them instead.” She sucked in her breath, blowing it out slowly as she looked away. “I’m sorry. That was mean and I’m not that kind of person. You bring it out in me.”
My laugh was half-assed. “I do that to a lot of people. Seriously. I don’t screw around or at least I don’t want to.”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re trying to tell me. You don’t owe me anything but decency while we pretend we’re in love. Then you can go on your merry way fucking anyone you want to.”
Not only was she turning my words around, she was also misunderstanding them.
That’s because I had marbles in my head and gravel in my mouth. I took a purposeful step toward her, crowding her space enough I thought she was going to run away like a rabbit. But she held her own. “You might not believe me and that’s fine, but when I’m with you everything feels different. I know we’re not really dating or engaged, but when I say we are or I’m asked questions about you, I have this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. As if what we’re sharing is very real. And I like it. A lot. I don’t think about what I’m missing with other girls or wish I could get out of our engagement. I want to be with you. I like you. A lot.”
Boy, I wasn’t going to win a contest for being a linguist.
Her nose remained scrunched and she eyed me suspiciously. Finally, a slight smile broke out on her face. “That’s really nice. That’s about the nicest thing a guy has said to me, especially since we aren’t even dating.”
“Something else. That guy you were with. What a jerk. An asshole. I can’t believe he treated you so badly and if he were here, I’d tell him off. No, I’d punch him in the face.”
