Page 93 of Marry Lies
“You…this…I’m not…” She sobs, tears streaming down her face.
I walk around the island and wrap my arms around her, trying not to laugh. She’s so fucking lovely, and I can’t help but smile as I lean down to kiss the top of her head.
“That bad?” I joke.
She laughs through her tears, swiping at her cheeks as I take a step back. “No, no, it’s perfect. I’m just…surprised. Agoodsurprised.”
Fuck.
I chew on the inside of my cheek as realization dawns. She’s surprised because I’m normally a giant asshole. Because I’m normally bickering with her, giving her the cold shoulder, or ignoring her completely. She’s surprised because I’m not normally this nice.
It feels like someone is stabbing me with ice as I take a step back, and I wince before I say what’s on my mind. I’m not usually this forthcoming, but I want to prove to her that I'm worthy of whatever she’s willing to give me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her gently.
“For what?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.
“You eat. I’ll talk,” I add, gesturing to her plate. She nods before she begins to cut the sausage with her knife. I rub my mouth and lean against the island. “Growing up, I hardly had any friends. I’ve always been skeptical of people. My brothers were my only friends, and then the accident happened, and that ensured no one wanted to spend time with the mangled brother.”
She stops chewing. “Miles…”
I hold a hand up. “Let me finish. I’ve—I’ve never told anyone any of this.”
“Okay.”
“When I was eighteen, I lost my virginity. I kept my hoodie on the entire time, and after, she made a comment about my scars. She called me a freak. It stuck in my mind. I walked away and never spoke to her again. It feltuncomfortablebeing vulnerable with people. So I just stopped. I didn’t fuck anyone else until I was twenty-eight.”
Estelle’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything.
“In those ten years, I discovered voyeurism. I used to go to a kink club in Los Angeles, but the drive was sometimes over an hour. When Chase and I started Ravage Consulting Firm, I decided it would be easier to design my own space, so the cellar was born. I hired Luna shortly after that, and she’s been helping to coordinate along with her partner ever since—though she now does a lot more for me around the castle.”
“Anyway, after the room was complete, I felt comfortable taking it a step further physically. I never brought them in there, of course, but knowing I had somethingjust for megave me the conviction to try again. And, when you watch how men act around women night after night, it sort of starts to become second nature. My confidence grew. I started dating casually, fucking women here and there, and I always came back to the room for months on end. It’s safe. I don’t have to make sure my collar is covering my scars. I don’t have to undress. I don’t have to answer questions about why I don’t undress. It’s easier,” I add.
Estelle takes a sip of her orange juice, watching me with interest. “Have you ever been in love?”
I shrug. “Infatuation, maybe. But nothing like…” I trail off and clear my throat. “What about you?”
She laughs at that. “At least a dozen times. Until last year, I dated around a lot. Fell in love easily. Live, love, laugh, and all of that. But then my grandmother died, and I didn’t have that urge to date. Nothing sparked that flame, you know?” She takes another sip of juice. “Well, that’s not true. There was this one man.”
I stand up straighter as she grins at me.
“Tall, wickedly handsome, always wears suits…” I smile before I can catch myself. “We met in Paris when I was swimming naked in a fountain, and then, using one of theworstpickup lines I’ve ever heard, invited me back to his flat to dry off.”
“One of the worst pickup lines? Really?” I ask, feigning woundedness.
She laughs again. “It worked, so I guess it wasn’t that bad.” She sets her fork down and rests her head in her hand as she looks at me. “Why did you pull away from me that night in Paris?”
I shift uncomfortably. “I thought you saw my scars and got spooked. I overreacted and pushed you away before I got hurt.”
“That makes sense. I thought I came on too strong and spooked you.”
I smirk as we make eye contact. “I suppose it was a miscommunication all around.”
She cocks her head as she assesses me. “I suppose so.”
I walk over to my plate and spear a mushroom with my fork. “It feels silly now.”
Before she can answer, her phone chimes. She reaches for where it’s sitting a few feet away, glancing down at the screen.
