Page 74 of Love You Truly

I put my hands over my eyes instead.He gently lifts them away.

“What?”

“You know what. Talk to me. Why do you think I’m just blowing smoke up your ass?”

I take in a deep lungful of air and exhale slowly.

“I guess…in my experience…people tell me what they think I want to hear, even if it’s not true.”

“I’m not like that.” The firm set of his jaw leaves no room for argument.

“Okay.” I can’t take the intensity of his eyes, so I look away.

He turns my chin to face his. “No, not okay. I need you to believe me. We’ve gotten ourselves in deep with each other with our plans to get married, get your business started, and now we’ve thrown sex into the mix.”

At my attempt to protest, he taps a finger against my lips. “And I am very, very happy about that, so don’t get any ideas about eliminating it.” He removes his finger and I stay quiet. “I’d like to get to know you better. If I say you can believe me, it means that you can. If I have to keep reminding you until it sinks in, I will.”

“Okay.” It shouldn’t be so hard for me to accept his honesty, but I guess I still carry lingering fears that people like Felix tell me. “Thank you.” He nods, and I sense that he’s waiting for me to say more. “You can trust me too. If I say something, it will be the truth.”

He gives me a side-eye as though he’s not sure. “Yeah?”

“Yes. I promise.”

“Okay, good.”

Dash’s body relaxes, and he pulls me into him again. I mull what he just said and try to figure out why it makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. It’s not so much the idea of being honest with each other that is a problem. It’s more the idea of acknowledging that it means he’ll know things about me, things I might tell him because I’ve just vowed to be honest with him.

I’m not sure I’m ready to do that with another person.

Maybe it won’t come up.

“I like this,” Dash says, kissing my temple, and I assume he means the way we’re lying here in a sweaty heap after an orgasm that seemed like it lasted thirty minutes. It feels good here, curled against his chest with Dash’s strong arms encircling me.

“Me too.” I nuzzle into him a little more and feel his grip tighten. I don’t dare tell him how much I like it because it scares me to think about it. When I’m in his arms, I don’t ever want him to let me go.

Our inhale and exhale synchronize, and we breathe like one connected being. It feels like we’re more than the sum of our parts.

“What were you like in high school?” Dash asks, rolling onto his back, putting his hands behind his head, and looking impossibly sexy doing so. His abs flex as he rearranges himself, shoving a pillow behind his head.

He was built to exist in this exact scene, post-coital on crisp sheets with morning sun highlighting every curve of his chest and abs. I almost can’t look at him with a straight face because he’s such a perfect physical specimen that it must be some kind of cosmic joke. But I look anyway because I can.

Maybe that’s why I don’t answer his question. I’m distracted and very content.

Then I notice his head tilt and his lips press together expectantly. I realize he actually expects an answer.

“Are you really asking me about fifteen years ago?” My gaze returns to his abs until I feel his index finger brush beneath my chin, tilting my face to look at him.

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know.”

I scrunch my face and shake my head, dismissing this ridiculousness. “I was…normal. You know. It was high school.”

“That’s a terrible answer.”

“Sorry. It was a terrible question.”

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