Page 72 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

“Well, no.” Duh. Obviously.

“Then, why would I be?” He stole another fry. Thief! Potato thief! If I didn’t get my plate back soon I was sure he’d eat them all.

“You didn’t get…ugh!” Words did not want to word. I slapped my hand on the table angrily, more frustrated with myself, than I was with him. “You didn’t get all vulnerable, like I did. You told me shit, sure. But like…Pru.” Again the nickname escaped unbidden. Without my permission, my lip began to quiver. “You gotta realize you’re not like other people. For some reason you’re weirdly…into my brand of odd.”

Maybe he genuinely didn’t understand.

It wasn’t actually dickish of him to ask why I was acting off. Normally I was all over him like a sloth with my tongue out. Maybe…in his own Prudence-y way, my silence made him feel insecure. Damn, what a thought.

“Whatever you say.” Of course, he wouldn’t fess up. He was Prudence. He’d probably rather lose a hand than admit I made him feel something. That didn’t really bother me though. I could see it on his face. He thought he had a poker face, but…if you knew where to look. His eyebrows held all his secrets. They twitched a little, signifying his unease. “Stop punishing me for whatever shit is going on in your head.” He punctuated his point by jabbing a finger at his own temple, his nostrils flaring. His painted nails were chipped and weirdly charming. The aroma wafting from the two plates Prudence had in front of him should have distracted me, but it didn’t.

He probably didn’t realize he’d just admitted that me not talking to him was punishment.

Fuck.

That was cute.

“I’m still getting used to your particular brand of honesty,” I admitted, charmed.

Prudence clearly sensed the affection because his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared angrily. Then he growled at me. Actually, fucking growled. I couldn’t stamp down my smile quick enough. He did give me back my plate of food though, so I supposed my comment hadn’t been negatively received.

Suddenly, I was hungry again.

I shoved a fry into my mouth, groaning as the salty, crispy flavor burst on my tongue. Hell yes. My lashes fluttered as I sighed happily. I hadn’t eaten out anywhere but McDonald’s in for-freaking-ever. This shit was good.

When I stopped food-gasming I tossed Prudence a smile. He’d already dug into his own plate, munching away like a starved thing. Ten fries in his mouth at once. Amazing. His lashes fluttered as he paused, then picked his burger up, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It really didn’t bother you?” I questioned, just to be sure. He growled again and I couldn’t help the giddy feeling that buzzed inside me. “Okay, okay.” My happiness bubbled over, and the smile I’d been swallowing returned full force. He blinked. Probably blinded by my dimples. They were my other nice feature, aside from my ass. “I get it.”

I dug into my food again, my stomach growling its appreciation. It was odd how stubbornly he was trying to cheer me up. It just reminded me of all I’d admitted in the car…and all I hadn’t. I really hadn’t been this vulnerable with someone else before. I was the kind of person who gave my surface to everyone because I knew it was palatable.

Anything deeper than that? And yeah. You got insecure Luca. Terrified, he’d said too much, too soon. Terrified he was too much in general. The shitty part? No one had ever actually said shit to me about anything like that. No one had bullied me. No one had called me a dork, or made fun of how obsessed I was with art.

The mean person?

The bully?

It was me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, startled when Prudence’s boot hit my shin and I jumped about a foot high. It stung. But the pain rocketed me out of my head. I blinked blearily, realizing that I had been staring down at my plate blank-faced. Half my fries were gone. My head whipped up, and I was met with Prudence’s proudest, meanest grin.

His entire plate was fucking empty.

And apparently he’d been sneaking fries from under my nose.

“What the fuck, dude?” I said, belatedly. Prudence regarded me for what felt like an eternity, his eyes dark as he cocked his head to the side, lips thinning. His attention made me squirm.

“Tell me what to do.”

“What?” My cheeks grew hot. Naughty ideas flickered through my mind, but I forced them—and my dick—down.

“Tell me what I need to do to get you to act normal again.” His gaze was challenging. “I hate when you’re quiet.”

Shit.

My eyes grew hot and wet, as I realized however bluntly delivered, that was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. I hadn’t known how much I wanted to hear those words. But here I was. Floored. I swallowed the lump in my throat, then offered him a wobbly smile.

“You can’t. I just need time to process, okay? I don’t get vulnerable with other people often.” More like, never. Exhibit A: The fact I’d rather risk my life helping a ghost than admit to my family I lost my fortune and couldn’t pay for Adam’s college courses anymore.

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