Page 18 of Secrets (The Sins Trilogy 2)
I take a strip and munch on it slowly. Mmm. Perfectly cooked. I can’t remember why I didn’t like it that much before.
“Want some more?”
“Nope. Just one is good. It’s yummy.”
He gives me an exaggerated leer. “That’s because it comes from me.”
I chuckle, happy he’s in a light, playful mood this morning. “Yes, you do. And I swear if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to fatten me up to eat me. Like that candy house witch in the fairytale.”
“I do enjoy eating you out. And I don’t mind if there’s more of you to love.”
Oh God.It’s seriously hot and embarrassing all at the same time. My cheeks burning, I elbow him gently. “How can you say that with such a straight face?”
“Because it’s true. I don’t care how big you get as long as you’re healthy.”
I finish the bacon and dig into my yogurt. Tony is always worried about me not eating well enough. I remember how he said I was too thin, not criticizing but out of concern. Sam used to say it was great I was on the too-slim side because it made me look good, which—now that I understand him better—probably meant it made him look good by association. It’s scary how I didn’t see the dark, hidden side of his words because I trusted that he wasn’t a bad guy. Or maybe I just wanted to believe he was a good guy because he was the only person who’d been with me and taken care of me since my parents’ deaths.
I wonder… Did I eat as little as I could because I wanted Sam’s approval? The notion is as unsetting as it is infuriating.
So I finish breakfast and even have a small glass of grapefruit juice after my coffee.
“What are you practicing today?” Tony asks.
“Maybe…” I pause. I was about to say Liszt out of habit, but… “Actually, I don’t want to practice right now.”
He squints. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just…” I lick my lips, suddenly feeling idiotic and vulnerable. I don’t know why that is, because it isn’t like Tony doesn’t know, but saying it out loud myself seems so much worse.
“What?” He places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You can tell me.”
And I should. Besides, he’s the most logical person to ask for help, even if I’m feeling awkward and ridiculous about it. “Can you teach me how to swim?”
He searches my face. “Are you sure?”
Looking into his concerned eyes, I know I’m making the right decision. I need to be his equal, the kind of person he doesn’t have to rescue all the time. I can’t continue to be a mess he has to make allowances for. “Yes. I promise I won’t faint like I did before. That was yesterday, and I’m fine now.”
“But…”
“I don’t know what Sam was thinking yesterday, but I know the first time into the pool was an accident, and the second time wasn’t. And he wouldn’t have done it if I could swim, right? So it’s like, if I can’t take care of myself, I’m always going to be at the mercy of others.” I cringe, embarrassed. Even though Tony told me he loves me and will do anything for me, I feel like I’m reminding him—again—how unaccomplished I am compared to him. “Wow. That sounds so…needy. It didn’t sound that bad in my head.”
Tony pulls me into his arms. “It doesn’t sound needy at all. It sounds brave and smart. I’m so proud of you. And of course I’d love to teach you.”
I swear I must’ve done something right at some point, because there’s no other explanation for my having a man like Tony in my life. “Thank you.”
I put on a bright teal bikini I bought in Spain when Julie insisted we hit the beach. She didn’t care that I couldn’t swim because, according to her, people go there to check out hot potential Latin lovers and tan as much as to get into the water.
Tony looks great in black trunks, his sculpted body drool-worthy, from the wide shoulders and thick chest to the leanly tapered sides and waist. Dark hair dusts his powerful pecs, and I can see a happy trail vanishing into the bathing suit. I swallow a sigh as my skin prickles. It would be so much more fun to seduce him than learn how to swim. And Tony probably wouldn’t object.
Except that’s a horrible copout and wouldn’t do a thing to fix any of my problems. So we go down to the pool together. I glance at the sun reflecting off the surface. It looks sort of deep. I read somewhere that water is buoyant, but my experience says otherwise. It sucks you down like a giant vacuum.
“No jumping in yet. Gotta stretch first,” Tony says.
“Why?”
“So you don’t get cramps. Or pull something.”
Sam probably wouldn’t give me time to limber up first. But I humor him, stretching every major muscle the way he’s doing. Besides, it’s not too terrible, since I get to see his skin go taut over his body. There’s not an ounce of fat on that man. His physique not only looks yummy, but supremely functional and powerful. I’ll never forget the way he beat up Jamie Thornton so effortlessly, or saved me at Sam’s. Or the way he carries me to the bedroom about as easily as he would a kitten.
