Page 34 of Maybe You

“You absolutely can.”

“Law-abiding citizen, my ass.” I lean forward and rest my arms on the table in front of me. “Have you ever been arrested?”

“My lawyer says I’m not allowed to say anything when he’s not present.”

I grin.

“Of course you shouldn’t. For what?”

He mimics zipping his lips.

“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

His expression turns thoughtful. “Depends which time we’re talking about.”

“You’ve been arrested more than once?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“You can’t just leave me hanging like this,” I protest.

He waggles his brows and takes another drink, arm thrown over the back of the booth, a picture of ease and elegance, and still somehow seamlessly fitting into this dingy bar.

“Okay, just give me one example,” I say. “The mildest, stupidest one you’ve got.”

He eyes me calmly for a few moments. “What do I get in return?”

“Anything you want,” I say without thinking.

“I’m going to guess you’re terrible at poker,” he says with a laugh.

“Maybe not anything.” I squeeze my lips together for a second and consider the situation before I ask, “What do you want?”

He lifts his bottle to his mouth and drains it before he sets it down with a thud. His eyes remain on me. It feels like I’m being flayed open with a look.

“A secret for a secret,” he finally says.

“I don’t have…” I start to say before my voice drops off.

Okay then.

“What constitutes a secret to you?” I ask.

His grin widens. “I believe the official definition is something like ‘not known by others?’”

I eye him for a bit and consider the offer before I nod my agreement. “A secret for a secret.”

A part of me expects him to jump right into it, but he just toys with his empty beer bottle before he gets up. “I’m gonna need another drink for this.”

He gets back to the bar, and I peer at him over my shoulder as Sutton talks to Marlon, the bartender. He laughs at something Marlon says, and the guy glances at Sutton with something that I’d say looks a lot like affection.

Sutton’s back in a few more minutes, and he slides another bottle in front of me, too. I nod my thanks.

“So?” I say. “Give me a secret.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Start with one of the arrest stories,” I suggest.

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