Twenty

 

Liv

 

It was a shit-show the next day. The rain hadn’t let up. I could hear it slam against the roof. I realized very quickly when I woke up in bed alone that the day was not going to end up with us wed. Not with how hectic it was out there. Shane confirmed it when he delivered my breakfast, stating a change of plans. I was relieved he didn’t question why I was out of my room, but he did stop to wearily look at me in Reaper’s bed, dishevelled looking and still half naked. After I’d eaten, he escorted me out of the room and into my other one where I quickly used the toilet and brushed my teeth.

“We don’t have to go back to his room,” Shane tried telling me. “I can fetch you dry blankets and you can stay here.”

“No,” I replied. “He’ll just come back to get me.”

I didn’t know if that was true, but it was an excuse Shane seemed to agree with. We returned to Reaper’s room where I slid back under the covers. Preoccupied with something else, Shane told me to stay until he returned, and he hadn’t returned for hours.

Lying in bed after breakfast and trying to get some more sleep in after that late night, I could hear the shouts all morning. Something had gone wrong. By noon, Reaper had come into the room, looking like he was fuming. Not at me, but at whatever it was that had gone wrong.

He kicked his boots off and paced the room, dripping water everywhere. There was mud smeared along his arms, like he’d been digging through the ground with his bare hands. I was under the covers in bed. I watched him as he paced, thunder rolling off him louder than the thunder that erupted from the sky. I was afraid to ask him what was wrong. He was scary when he was like this. Gone was the humour from last night, and the heat between us. He barely looked at me. I might as well have not been present. I kept quiet and unmoving, determined not to catch his attention. After he stopped pacing, he stood still with his hands on his hips, and that was when he noticed me. It seemed, by the light surprise in his eyes, he had forgotten I was there.

“You wanna go back to your room?” he asked, his voice tight with fury.

“No,” I answered quietly. I was comfortable, and warm, and I kind of liked being in his room for reasons he would never pry out of me.

He nodded once – maybe he was pleased? – and kept his distance, moving to where the door was. Without taking his eyes off me, he sat down on the ground next to it, back against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles. Whatever he was pissed about didn’t seem to bother him anymore, not when he was taking such interest in me.

“Talk,” he ordered, softly.

“About what?” I asked, taken off guard by his demand.

“Nothing. Anything. You’re good at it.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Again, I didn’t think you understood.”

“Is that what it takes to get you talking?”

I sat up and rested the pillow against the headboard when I answered, “I was talking to myself, Reaper. When the other person understands the shit you say, talking shouldn’t be a one-way street.”

He crossed his arms. “Babe, I ain’t in the fucking mood to talk. Either you keep me occupied right now, or I’ll have to go again, and I’m not too eager to reign my anger in around my men.”

“You going to hurt someone if you go?”

He gritted his teeth. “I got it in me to kill someone right now.”

I acted casual, like his words didn’t chill me to the bone, though it did. “Are you this homicidal often?”

“Often?”

I grinned, trying to keep it light. “You have a track record for being angry, and I think I’ve known you for like two minutes.”

“You think that was anger I showed you back in your room?”

I looked at him oddly. “Was it not?”

He looked half-serious, half-amused. “No, it wasn’t. I liked your little pouty fits, and I took advantage of your short fuse.”

“My short fuse?”

“Feisty, you’ve been craving my attention from the start.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“I wouldn’t call it a kidnap.”

“I would! I got drugged and tied up in a bloody plane for god knows how long.”

“Sounds like you had an adventure.”

“You picked the worst pilot in the world too.”

“Logan passed his exam. He’s certified.”

“He’s a maniac. His landing was shocking.”

“Yet you’re still in one piece.”

“I had bruises everywhere.”

His lips jutted up, and I could tell our exchange was already working on his temper. “Better to have bruises than to be dead. I’m not into cold bodies.”

“How reassuring,” I said, dryly. “Point is, I’ve endured hell of a lot more than I should have. Having enough of that doesn’t mean I have a short fuse.”

“I didn’t try pushing you over the edge last night,” he returned swiftly. “And you got pissy the second I got to this door. Short fuse, or not?”

“That was different.”

“How?”

“Because I –”

“Didn’t want to be made a fool of,” he finished, chuckling deep in his chest. “Nice excuse. We gonna keep this up, babe? Our little push and pull shit, I mean. You gonna keep winding me up until I push you down and end this dance between us?”

“Is that really what you think I’m doing?”

“You’ve been in my bed and haven’t budged an inch. Something tells me you’re not running out of here for a reason.”

I looked away for a split second, avoiding his eyes. “It’s warm in here.”

“Warm,” he repeated, disbelieving.

“Your bed’s comfy too. I like it here. I think I’ll stay.” I knew that was a load of shit. His bed was comfy, sure, but not enough to make me stick around. The whole room was dilapidated and barely held together by the aged wood that was currently creaking from the force of the wind outside. It was totally medieval. But I had to preserve my goddamn dignity somehow, even if it meant lying in the most brutally obvious way.

Of course, he knew I was full of shit. That was part of the fun. He smiled slowly as he looked deeper at me, and something about this look made me a little hazy. “You really aren’t a diva, are you?” I didn’t respond, and I didn’t have to because he continued. “Your father did a good job keeping you out of prying eyes. Made everyone curious before you got here what you’d be like.”

“Were you curious?” I wondered, unable to keep my interest from showing.

“I’m curious about a lot of things with you,” he answered, this time looking me over slowly in a way that made me feel utterly exposed. Yet, I didn’t try covering myself with the blanket in my lap. If anything, I wanted him to look at me like that.

“What things?” My voice was quiet, lighter. I was almost afraid to know; I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep it together.

“Not things I’d say from this far.”

“You’re like six feet away.”

“That’s far.”

It wasn’t far.

I stared at him, waiting for him to…what? Tell me to go to him? Or was I supposed to wait for him to come to me? Judging by how comfortably he sat, I knew he wasn’t budging an inch. The asshole wanted me to do the work, just like the soda incident that had me crawling to him.

I thought of that moment just then; I thought of how warm he felt when he pulled me to his body and made every inch of me buzz with anticipation. I felt it between my legs then, and I was feeling it now just thinking about it. I eyed the short journey I would have to take getting to him, and when my gaze settled back on his, I was sure he understood my train of thought; his smirk said it all.

“I’m not doing that again,” I declared, firmly.

“We can compromise,” he returned quietly, his gaze never drifting from mine. “You can sit on the edge of the bed, facing me. I can come to you.”

At first, I was suspicious. He would come to me? It didn’t seem like something Reaper would do. He made commands and got his way. Compromise was not in his nature. But I wanted to know what he would do next.

I turned my body facing him and slid so I was sitting on the edge of the bed. My feet were hanging off, my toes skimmed the cool floor as I adjusted myself comfortably. Then I raised a brow, waiting for him to deliver. His devilish smirk had me feeling warmth all the way to my toes.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked this slowly, curiously.

I blinked at him several times. We had already established what was going to happen next. Why did he want me to say it? I kept my face calm, kept my breathing at ease when I muttered, “Come to me.”

To my utter surprise, he did. The giant, muddied, muscled man crawled to me. A short crawl because he was so big, and it was more a stride-crawl than anything by how quick he moved. And though it took two seconds, it stretched a little longer than that to me. His biceps flexed with that stride-crawl, looking ridiculously sexy for my own sanity. I swallowed hard, fighting to suppress those goddamn tingles in my core.

He stopped right in front of me, still on his knees, his face coming up to mine. I couldn’t discern him. I was too busy looking down at his mouth when he said, “That good enough, Olivia?”

Fuck him when he said my name. Goddammit.

Instead of answering, I licked my lips and replied, “Now what things were you curious about?”

He was the furthest thing from angry now. That rage he entered the room with was long gone. He came closer, his mouth hovering near mine. His hands slid under my ass, and he ran his thumbs over the hem of my underwear. I didn’t breathe. My skin broke out in goosebumps, and he made a small sound in the back of his throat.

“Your body doesn’t take much to respond,” he observed. “Were you that sheltered?”

“Is that part of your curiosity?” I returned.

“I’m curious if you’re really a virgin.”

“I thought that was made clear to you.”

“I know a lot about girls. I know they’ve got a hell of a lot of secrets buried away.”

I shook my head slightly, feeling strangely open to him. “You ever met my father?”

He looked unreadable for a fleeting moment. “Once.”

“Was once not enough for you to see how crazy he is?”

“Crazy, or protective?”

My shoulders relaxed as I laughed, a little less nervous at how close he was. “Protective would be an understatement. Try being followed around your whole life. Being a virgin isn’t exactly an accomplishment. I didn’t reserve myself for somebody special. There was no opportunity. I’ve never been alone.”

“Until I kidnapped you,” he added.

“I thought we weren’t calling it that.”

“You really haven’t been touched?” He looked dead serious, staring at me fixedly, waiting for me to respond. Even the gentle movements with his thumbs had ceased.

“Tony had me examined if you don’t believe me,” I told him, my voice coming off colder than I had intended. I still felt violated since that ‘examination’ in the doctor’s office with his sister present; his sister Vittoria, a woman whose heart was probably blacker than his. I’d never been more humiliated in my life.

“I’m not talkin’ about that piece of membrane now,” he said. “I’m talkin’ about in general.”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

My jaw clenched. I knew what he was trying to pry out of me, but I felt guarded being honest to him like that. My gaze wavered. I looked down at his thick arms that were practically wrapped around me. Delaying my response, I asked, “How old were you your first time?”

He didn’t waste time responding. “Thirteen.”

My eyes widened. “And you knew what you were doing?”

Reaper smiled softly. “Who the fuck knows anything at thirteen?”

“How did it happen at thirteen?”

“Boredom.”

“Was she your girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Did you like her?”

“No.” When I waited for more, he didn’t give it. Instead, his brows went up, expectantly. “It’s your turn now, rebel.”

“I was sent to an all-girls school,” I explained. “Zero interaction with boys.”

“But interaction with girls.” There was a devilish glint in his eyes as he saw straight through me.

I smiled. “Once.”

“She touched you?”

“Just a kiss.”

“Did you like her?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

I chuckled wryly, using his excuse. “Boredom.”

He looked like he was fighting back a laugh. “How old were you, Olivia?”

“Like sixteen.”

“How did it happen?”

“It was a dare, and I wanted to know what it felt like. When Disney princesses got more action than you, any pair of lips will do.”

“That’s fuckin’ cute.”

“I’m glad it’s cute to you.”

He smiled wide at my tone. “You don’t like the word cute?”

“I’m not five.”

“I’m not blind either, feisty.”

“I mean, cute makes me feel like I’m five.”

“Let me make it clear to you, the last thing I think of when I say cute is of five-year olds.”

“What do you think of when you say it?”

“I think of innocence and softness. Like you.”

I forced a light laugh, though my insides warmed. “Well, I’ve never been called cute in that way before.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“See, now you’re self-conscious, and that’s fuckin’ cute too.” He looked at me with this look in his eye I couldn’t quite read. It made me feel like the centre of his fucking world. I tried to compose myself with that look, but I was failing. It was a strange tense moment that ended quickly when he looked me over again like he wanted to touch me everywhere.

“And that’s it?” he then pressed, suddenly solemn. “No one ever touched you? In any way? Wanted or unwanted?”

My smile faded with his. I looked at him oddly. “Why are you asking me this?”

He resumed his gentle thumb strokes, looking me over in that unreadable way again. “You’re going to be taking my name and sharing my bed. I want to know every inch of you, but I have to know what to watch out for.”

“Like what?”

“Like triggers.”

Ah, there it was. I nodded once, understanding him now. “I’ve never been abused. My father, despite all his faults, really did protect me.”

“I don’t doubt that.” This time he looked me square in the eye when he added, “I was referring to before that.”

The tunnel. My mother. Bogeyman. Naynay. The Eternity Man.

I wished I had never opened my goddamn mouth about any of that. I simply shook my head at him, an answer that wasn’t going to be accompanied with words. He nodded back, not pressing. I liked that about him; he knew when not to push.

“So, what else are you curious about?” I quietly asked, steering the conversation back to a lighter pace.

“It’s crude,” he warned.

“I don’t care.”

“I want to see you naked.”

My cheeks immediately heated. “Really?”

His smile returned, spreading slowly as he took in my reaction. “Really.”

“I guess that part was obvious.”

“Very.”

God, it took a lot to push out, “Anywhere in particular?”

He moved even closer now; his arms pressed against my thighs, his thumbs dug into my skin. He looked me over, his mouth barely inches from mine. “I want to know what your tits look like bare. I’ve thought about it too many fuckin’ times to count.”

“Aren’t they all the same?”

“Hell no, they’re not.”

I couldn’t help how salty I sounded when I retorted, “I’m only asking because you have two jungle girls you can climb into bed with.”

“I’m not into sloppy seconds.”

“I thought you liked it filthy.”

“I was pissed when I said that. I do like some dirty fucking, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not into hookers.” Jesus, he was so open. He held nothing back, and after a whole lifetime of guarded conversations, I was struggling to keep my shock at bay.

“What makes you want to see mine? Lack of options?”

“No, I’ve got options.”

“Is it because you can’t fuck me?”

“Fuck, when you swear, it’s hot, rebel.”

My cheeks heated. “Well, is it why?”

He made a light noise in the back of his throat. “That could be it. You’re forbidden fruit right now.”

“Only because you’ve made it that way. Are you prolonging it on purpose?”

His jaw tightened as he thought of my question. “I might be.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t felt this kind of buzz over a woman in a long time. I ain’t looking to ruin it so fast.”

He thought fucking me was going to ruin his attraction to me? It was hard not to feel just a little wounded. I had to remind myself in that moment I was just business pussy. Nothing more.

What more did you possibly expect, Olivia?

I silenced that part of me immediately. I knew all that already. I wasn’t sitting here looking for a heart to heart moment. Reaper had no fucking heart. He was playing around with me. I was his distraction, and he was savouring me until my luster wore off. Maybe he was that for me too. Like him, I wanted to feel the same buzz he was talking about. It was like a language I was slowly learning, and I wanted to learn every fucking word of it. That feeling of being on the edge of a great escape was far better than apathy.

“Keep going,” I whispered, too deep now to stop. “I want to know what else you’re wondering about.”

“I wanna know how tight you’ll feel, and how many times I can make you come. If you like me playing with you first. If you want me sucking your perfect nipples so much, you beg for it. I want to know what colour they are. If they’re brown, or pink. Am I treading too quick for you, rebel?”

“No.” I was in that dream-like state, like last night. I wanted him to kiss me. To make me grip his cock again and show me how deep inside of me he could be. I wanted to be led. I needed him to make that move. But he didn’t inch closer, though his eyelids were heavier than before.

“Do you want to know then?” I whispered, my voice shaking from nerves. He didn’t respond at first, but his jaw clenched as he glanced down at my bra before looking back at me. “Do you?” I pressed, barely breathing now.

It was the first time I’d seen him totally unsure. But he buried his conflict, and he ordered in a tight voice, “Show me.”

The only reason I had so much courage was because I was so painfully horny, and because he looked at me so wantonly, my shame was gone and replaced by an even stronger urge to push him. Staring into his eyes, I slid the straps of my bra down my arms and then tugged each cup down. He was so close, my fingers brushed against his hard chest in the process. He felt tight, and he was barely moving as I went. He didn’t look down straight away. His eyes remained fixed on mine, searching them. His brows came closer together in thought, like he couldn’t figure me out. I couldn’t figure me out either. One second defiant, the next a bold mess that was all too willing to pull her bra down to satiate her monster’s curiosity.

I must have been beet red, but he wasn’t concerned about it. The second he looked at my exposed chest, his grip around me stiffened. I might have felt self-conscious if it weren’t for that drunken look on his face.

“You’re the strangest thing, aren’t you?” he said, as his hand left my back and inched up my hip and waist. His large hand cupped my right breast whole, unabashedly, like he fucking owned me already. God, it felt good. “No experience, yet you’re dropping your beautiful tits for me just like that. Are you tryin’ to break me, Olivia?”

“Yes,” I breathed out, defenceless now. “And no. And maybe, even. I don’t know. I just want the throbbing to stop, and I don’t know any other way.”

“Where’s the throbbing?”

“You know where.”

His teeth clenched. “Are you fuckin’ with my head?”

“Why would I do that?”

“You’re trying to push me over the edge, sweet talkin’ me like you’re so fuckin’ innocent.”

“You called me cute two minutes ago, so I guess I am all that innocent.”

His voice came out like a whip. “No one this innocent puts out their tits for someone like me.”

I sucked in a breath. “Someone like you?”

“I’m a fucking monster.”

“I know that already.”

“And you’re fuckin’ with me.”

“I’m not trying to.”

He shook slightly, and the grip around my breast tightened in need. “I’m not so fuckin’ strong these days when it comes to this, feisty. I ain’t kind, either. If you’ve got a fuckin’ agenda, I’d rethink it now.”

“An agenda? Wow, now you’re really paranoid.”

“Yeah, an agenda.” His voice rose. “Don’t be playing with me, babe. I’m a fuckin’ scorpion when you get too close.”

My brows shot up in shock. “A scorpion? Oh, and I’m the frog? Don’t forget I had a knife to your throat once upon a time!”

He smirked back darkly. “Did you really think I put it there because I was so lost in the moment, Olivia?”

My eyes widened, and my cheeks burned. “So, you put it there on purpose, did you?”

“I knew what I was doing.”

“Convenient we’re using that excuse.”

“It’s true, feisty. I was testing you.”

“Then who’s playing with who now?”

His thumb skimmed over my nipple, not at all perturbed we were neck and neck. It was like his touch was a separate entity to him, and I hated that I didn’t push his hand away and leaned into his touch instead. “I wasn’t playing with you,” he explained, pressing his forehead to mine as he continued to rub me. “I just needed to know if you were fucking with me.”

I stared down at his lips. Blood red. Wet. “I wasn’t fucking with you until I saw it.”

His tongue swiped my lower lip slowly from one corner to the other. A jolt of pleasure ran down my spine. My eyelids felt heavier as he did it again, this time pressing his tongue between my lips. He made a light groaning sound. “Did you grab a knife when I was out?”

He was referring to the shit ton of knives on the floor beside the bed. I’d looked them over in his absence, all sheathed and clean. “No,” I bit out, annoyed at him for assuming I would have.

“So, what’re you planning to do then when I push you down and rub my hard on against your pussy?”

“I’m not planning to do anything.” Except maybe moan.

“Not plannin’ to cut me up –”

“No!”

“No hidden agenda in you then?”

“I told you I’m throbbing –”

“And I told you not to play –”

I pulled my head back midway through his words and glared at him. “I don’t have an agenda, you asshole, I’m just turned on!”

I barely finished that when he pushed me back on the bed, knocking the air out of my lungs. He went down with me, his chest pressed against mine. His hand snaked up from my breast to my shoulder blade and up my neck. He gripped a chunk of my hair on the back of my head and dipped his face between my neck and shoulder, skimming his lips against my skin. He planted a trail of wet kisses up my throat, capturing my mouth in a deep, quick kiss. Then he pulled back. I opened my eyes and stared up at him. He was looking back with the most devilish smirk on his face.

“What’s your problem?” I hissed at him.

“I’m havin’ a lot of fun with you, rebel,” he replied, planting another kiss on the corner of my mouth.

I shook my head in an act of frustration, but he was so close, we rubbed noses instead. He chuckled again deep in his throat. “I’m just entertainment to you, huh?” I growled, annoyed as ever.

He ignored that. “Spread your legs for me.”

I kept them together instead. “No.”

His smirk turned into a giant grin. “Spread them so I can feel you.”

“I said no.”

“Olivia, you’re only making me harder for you with your noes, which means you’re making the situation a lot worse for yourself.”

“Tough,” I retorted, resisting. “Don’t you hear yourself? Saying my noes turn you on, that’s kind of sick.”

“Based on your recent behaviour, I’d say you like it a little sick, Olivia.” His hand drifted down to my clenched legs and rested where my thighs would part.

I didn’t spread. Instead, I smirked back at him, knowing he wasn’t going to force them apart. He talked a big talk, but he wasn’t that kind of guy. Still. I liked feeling like I had the power. It was damn hot knowing I could make a big guy like him hold back.

He was right. I did like it sick.

“Come on,” he coaxed, eyes alive with mischief. “Spread.”

“Why would I do that?” I replied, wittily. “Have you seen the state of you? You got mud all over your arms. I’m not marrying an animal.” Using his words right back at him felt good, but he wasn’t all that amused.

“Fuck, you know how to work up a man, don’t you?” he said, an ache in his voice. “But, see, you’re windin’ up the wrong man.” Before I could respond, he rubbed his arm down my chest and ribcage, muddying me back. Jesus Christ. My thighs shuddered at his bold move. Every inch of me prickled beneath him. He looked right into my eyes, challenging me. “I think we’re both animals now, feisty. Question is, what’re we going to do about it?”

If I wasn’t so wound up with need, I might have laughed. Of all the things I could have imagined would transpire between us, this was never one of them. He seemed to be enjoying my reaction. I was positive my face was flushed red. I was tongue-tied – utterly fucking speechless – at his latest victory.

“Do you usually irritate someone to the brink of insanity?” I wondered, trying to keep it light, because it was so far from fucking light by the way my body was responding.

“To the brink of consent,” he returned swiftly, burning me with his gaze. “Will you consent, feisty?”

I swallowed hard and tried to calm my thudding heart. My mind was silent, but my body… My thighs loosened and fell apart for him. This was me waving my white flag. Instead of rubbing that in, he made a humming sound in the back of his throat, glancing down at my thighs with a tight jaw.

“You wet, Olivia?” he asked softly, his chest moving faster.

“Find out.” My response was so quiet, I could barely hear it. But he did. Loud and clear because that jaw flexed. He was fighting himself. He stared into my eyes with a million thoughts behind his. He wasn’t touching me, but then he had told me relentlessly to spread for him. It suddenly occurred to me what he was doing. “You’re pushing yourself on purpose,” I said, annoyed again. “I’m your sparkly toy and you want to be excited.”

“You think I want to be teased?”

“Maybe you’re not used to it.”

“You’d be surprised.” There was no smirk, or evil glint in his eye with that response. No humour returned as he looked back at me with the most unreadable expression.

“Have you been teased, Reaper?”

He didn’t respond. His hooded eyes had been so focused on me, and now it was fading. His tight body loosened, and swiftly, his attentive expression changed into a look of boredom. I knew when I was losing him, and it showed when he had that look on his face. He was distancing himself rapidly, putting up the walls brick by brick so I wouldn’t coax anymore emotion out of him. He was damn good at it. A master of his craft, but he had overlooked a very important fact: I was the same as him.

I squirmed beneath him, trying to spark life back into him. “Or were you trying to see how far you could push me? Which one is it? Am I just staving off your boredom in this cunt of a place? Your buddy Logan did say you poor boys have no internet.”

His expression now was dry. “You talked about the internet with Logan?”

“Among other things.”

“Couldn’t have been a very stimulating conversation.”

My lips twitched. “Can’t say a whole lot runs through his head, but he was engaging enough.”

He grunted and said nothing. I knew I had lost him. He removed his body off me and I blinked hard, feeling irritated. I tried to think of what exactly it was that shut him off, but I hadn’t acted differently. There were no triggers, unlike the last time he had snapped in the other room when I’d angrily asked if he’d locked anyone else away.

Jesus, had he?

I eyed him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed now. His head was turned from me. I couldn’t see his face. His body language looked relaxed, until I spotted his hands clenched into tight fists.

I’d definitely done something, and I didn’t feel like beating around the bush.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

He bent down and began re-tying his laces. “On the contrary, feisty.”

“Then why did you stop?”

“Because I’m not gonna touch you again until we’re married.”

“You had your hands into fists. You were pissed.”

He shook his head. “No, Olivia, I was tempted, not pissed.”

“I guess I don’t get why you shut down and then state we’re waiting until we say a bunch of lines we don’t even mean to one another.”

“I made a deal with your father.”

“I know that,” I snapped. “I’m just business. I get it.”

“It’s more than that. It’s my word I gave.”

“And who’s gonna know?”

“You really that horny right now, Olivia?”

I bristled. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you’re going to do something about it. I’m glad you get to decide these things without my input. That’s really fuckin’ generous, Reaper.”

He glanced back at me, a hint of a smile on the corner of his mouth. “But it’s good, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Pulling back when it gets hard. It makes you feel pretty alive, doesn’t it?”

I raised a brow, offering the driest response. “If alive means feeling like I have the female equivalent to blue balls, then sure.”

He grunted, buried in thought, and nodded once, more to himself. “So that’s what it’s like then to really wind someone up.”

This time I wasn’t going to ask what he meant. He was venturing into a memory that made him swallow hard. He was suppressing a strong emotion. Good or bad, it was impossible to know. This guy was a tough nut to crack. Instead, I watched his face closely as he finished up with his boots. He was so reserved. I could physically feel the distance he had put in place, and I wondered why I wasn’t so quick putting up mine.

“Stop going back there,” I muttered quickly before I stopped myself.

“Going where?” he asked, absentmindedly

“The past.”

His movements slowed. He kept his eyes fixed on his boots. “And what about you, Olivia? Do you go back there too?”

“All the time.”

He glanced at me. “We ain’t going that way.”

“No.”

“Best we shed it then.”

I nodded slowly. “Best we don’t let the past win.”

He swallowed hard, nodding back. Then he looked at me like he didn’t want to go back out. Like he wanted to stay right here with me.

With a long exhale, he finished tying up his shoes and got up.

“You sure did a lot of talking for someone that didn’t want to speak,” I remarked as he strode to the door.

His hand paused on the doorknob for a second as he mulled over my words. Then he pulled it open and said very softly on his way out, “So did you, Olivia.”