Page 108 of Butterfly Effect

“Not saying I was, but…” The thick line of his lashes meets my brow. “It’s nice to have security, too. You don’t need me for any of those things.”

Those butterflies in my gut flutter in a frenzy, then start punching each other, furious.

What a tragedy. The man is a professional athlete in peak shape, handsome in an annoying way, stupidly rich, reads, calls my best friend’s mom to learn how to make my favorite meal, literally begs for my attention, and eats pussy like a champ. He’s basically a man written by a woman. The perfect boyfriend. How could anybodynotwant to be his?

His first finger latches onto my chin. “I meant it when I said use me however you like. You want control? You got it. You want me to take over? I will.” The next few words climb into my heart and ensnare it, trapping it in a spinning cage. “You can have all of me.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t give himself to anyone; if he does, it’s in tiny shards.

“Because, Gabe. You deserve something—someone that’s entirely yours. I’m yours.”

Mine? He’s already called me his, and now he’s sayinghe’smine?

So much for fake dating. Just sex, we said. Now look at us. Fucking look at us!

“Pineapple,” I whisper.

“Pineapple?”

“It’s my safe word.”

That I decided on two milliseconds ago.

“For emotional boundaries, too.”

“Absolutely.” Worried eyes dart across my face, seeming to sense my impending emotional shutdown. “Anything else?”

“What’s yours?”

His lips pull into his mouth. “Meatloaf.”

“Why?”

“Give it a second.”

His hum hints at the tune of Meatloaf’s “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That.)”

I cover his mouth with my palm. He removes it by gripping my wrist.

“So, if I ask about your mom?—”

“Pineapple.”

Wade zips his mouth, mimes turning a lock, and throws away the key.

“And if I bring up your daddy issues?”

“Meatloaf.”

We share a snort. Mine’s closer to a chuckle.

His hand balls his pec, stumbling back a few steps and swooning with a falsetto lilt. “Oh, Freckles. Did I just make you laugh? You’re making my dreams come true.”

“You’re such a drama queen.” I swivel and bump him with my ass, keeping him at a distance from the ball. “It’s obnoxious.”

He hisses. “Quit making me hard with those insults.”

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