Page 109 of Employing Patience

“If you think you can distract me with those thighs, you’re wrong.”

“Believe it or not, I know you too, meu lutador. If I wanted you jelly right now, you would be.”

His eyes roam my face. “I don’t doubt you for a second.”

“So. You figured me out. How?”

“I think you wanted me to.”

“That so?”

Joey nods. “Hannah saw you. You had to know she’d tell me that you were there right before you Mary Poppins’ed the house, paid everything off, and filled the place with food.” His thumb runs over my cheek, and I hate that I can’t read on his face how he feels about it all. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you do it?”

I break our gaze, looking at my hands, not even sure if I can talk about it. I use ridiculous, over-the-top sayings to stop people from guessing I’m serious. The wilder my life mottos are, the funnier people find them. So putting into words that I help because I want to help … is harder than it should be. “Because no one else would. You’re a good person who was struggling, and I could fix it. Simple as that.”

“So why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to know it was me. I didn’t want you to think you owed me—or worse, to feel like a charity case. You’re not. The world isn’t set up for people like you.”

“Like me?”

“The fighters. The ones who are trying to climb their way out of a broken system. You were in a trap. All I did was slip you the key.”

“Artur … You have no idea. You have no idea how much of a struggle it was to make ends meet, to get ahead.” Joey’s eyes get all glassy. “You did so much more than that.”

His mouth finds mine again, and I melt into the kiss as he rolls on top of me. It’s not heated, not hungry, and I’m not sure how I can tell the difference, but it feels worlds apart from any kiss I’ve ever had before. It’s appreciation and respect. Affection and need. Something that hits deep in my chest and makes me desperate to hold on.

When he pulls back, I get the courage to say, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” His fingers dip below my shirt and scratch along my chest hair. “I promise. No matter what goes on with us, I never would.”

“Thank you.”

A grin hitches one side of his lips. “So, why Nevele Ounces? Is it a family name? Something you got from a cereal box? It doesn’t sound Portuguese, so—”

“Promise not to laugh.”

“Of course.”

I wish he’d asked me anything but that. “It’s … from Eleven Ounces.”

“Eleven Oun—wait. Like, the band? Eleven?”

“You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

“Okay, but I didn’t know you named your entire sneaky operation around a fucking boy band.” Joey laughs, and the asshole laughs hard. “Are you a fan, Art? Do you luuuurve them?”

“I was young. It was a long time ago. I’m regretting every decision that has led me to this moment.”

“Don’t.” Joey kisses me again. “Apparently, boy band groupies are my kink.”

33

JOEY

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