Page 24 of Tips and Trysts

When he doesn’t respond, I repeat myself.

His gaze drifts. “Not exactly.”

“No,” I warn. “I don’t believe in gray areas when it comes to honesty. Have you been lying to me?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it. Either you have feelings for me or you don’t. Either you lied to me or you didn’t. Which is it?”

Everett lets out a slow sigh. He settles in his chair, adjusting his position until his spine is straight and his posture is impeccable as usual. He nods, and with the same unwavering voice I’ve begrudgingly learned to recognize over the past seven months, Everett Logan looks me dead in the eyes and says, “I want to fuck you.”

Eight

CORA

I want to fuckyou.

Two unexpected things happen when Everett confesses: I deflate, but I also heat.

The deflation is languid like air leaking through a pinhole rupture in a balloon. While I appreciate his honesty, learning he doesn’t have feelings for me beyond lust is unexpectedly…disappointing.

At the same time, when a guy that attractive tells me he wants me, I can practically feel my libido shaking off the codeine and stretching out her hamstrings so she can climb him like a tree.

“You want to fuck me,” I parrot, keeping both of my reactions from bubbling to the surface.

“Plain and simple,” he confirms. “You probably think it’s a horrible idea, and you’re not wrong. Fucking each other would be a horrible idea.”

And then Everett sits in silence. Done. Apparently,thisis his big opener.

I click my tongue. “Wow. This is easily the worst proposition since Mr. Darcy said to Elizabeth Bennet, ‘Hey, listen, I’m in turmoil because I like you for some ungodly reason. Will you marry me?’”

“Darcy did better the second time, so let me try again: I want you. Physically. Carnally.Biblically. I know I’ve been a dick, but I’m not flippant about this. When I want something, I know it. I want you, princess. Tell me how to get you.”

Translation: Tell me how to get inside you. Tell me how to fuck you, but not win you.

“What changed? When did you realize you wanted to fuck me?”

He motions at me. “You know what happened. I’m not proud that an armed psychopath gave me the kick in the nuts I needed, but it’s a fact. I held you while you were bleeding. I nearly killed a man over it.”

My sharp inhale is involuntary. “What do you mean you nearly killed a man?”

“The gunman. I nearly killed him. I sprained half my fingers on his face.” He lifts his bandaged hand as evidence.

I lose my words until I finally manage to say, “Everett, he had agun.”

“I know. I hit him with it after I fucked up my hand.”

My jaw lowers. “I’ve never taken you for the violent type.”

“I’m not,” he answers, examining the neat white bandages covering most of his hand. “But adrenaline is a magical thing.”

Don’t I know it.

“Plus,” he goes on, “Valeria taught me how to throw a punch. I wanted to see how well I learned.”

“Valeria?MyValeria?”

“Hate to break it to you, but she’sourValeria now. And she’s going to be really proud of me.” A tiny smirk appears on the corner of his lips. “I can do more though. How badly do you wantto ruin him? I’ll do anything you want short of killing him—not because I don’t want to. I just think I’d get caught.”

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