Page 46 of Tipping Point

“What happened to ‘Curls’?” I counter.

He leans over suddenly, intensely. “It’s all about the project, right?”

I nod tentatively.

“Let me show you firsthand.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Let me buy you a dress and give you firsthand experience into the lifestyle.”

“I genuinely cannot accept your money. I’m sorry.”

“Oh come on, it’ll be grand. We’ll make a trade.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Leave it out.”

I go still and look up at him, expecting him to have that cold fury. His eyes are black, but not angry. They’re open and bare and he holds my gaze.

He continues. “You’re too curious to have let it go.”

He’s talking about his accident. I glance at his shoulder, the one that’s scarred, now covered by his shirt.

He’s right. I know everything. Everything except…

“Then tell me your side.”

He’s thinking it over.

“No.”

I sigh.

“And stop pushing,” he adds, but he’s smiling. One corner of his lip lifts and he has a dimple.

My stomach flutters.

Shit.

My meal arrives and I dive right in, taking a sip of my beer. He watches me eat in peaceful silence.

We’re both wondering how it will play out.

“It’s unethical,” I say.

“It’s respecting my privacy.”

“Not if I take something in return for it.”

“The dress?” He raises his eyebrows.

I nod.

“Then consider it a trade.”

“A trade for what?”

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