Page 97 of Caught Stealing

“You’re telling me you’ve never blacked out with anyone besides me?” He raises a disbelieving brow. “Seriously? With how much you sleep around?”

“There’s that judgy tone again,” I say with a laugh. “You might be worse than Oakley. And for the record, I’m not nearly as bad as everyone makes me out to be. I just have rules.”

Had,a little voice reminds me.Youhadrules.

They don’t really exist anymore, seeing as Phoenix came into my life and blew every single one of them outta the water. He can’t even be classified as a one-night stand anymore unless we’re talking about how epically it failed to be just a single night.

Or how I failed to remember it.

“I just don’t get it.” He disengages his fingers from mine and takes his turn mapping the veins in my arm. “So it’s not so much judgment as not understanding.”

“There’s not a whole lot to misinterpret about the hook-up culture, Nix,” I point out.

“I just don’t gethowyou can have all these meaningless flings. My brain can’t comprehend how it’s enjoyable for you, sleeping with random people at any given time.” His attention flicks up to my face briefly before he continues. “Wouldn’t you rather sleep with the same person a ton, especially if you have good chemistry with them? Quality over quantity kinda thing?”

“Spoken like a true serial monogamist.”

His teeth sink into his bottom lip the way it does when he’s both focused and anxious. I hate knowing this situation is probably the latter.

“I’m being serious,” he whispers.

“So am I.” I reach up and brush my thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it free from where his teeth have captured it. “And yeah, quality over quantity is a very valid point. It’s one of the many,manyreasons why I agreed to do this your way. Because the way we are together…” I trail off, not having the words to describe what it’s like.

It exceeds everything I’ve ever known before him.

“Yeah, I get it,” he says before pressing a kiss to the pad of my thumb. “Even if I don’t understand how this happened, I know what you mean.”

“It’s because, deep down, you like me,” I tease. “Youreallylike me.”

“At this moment, I really fucking don’t.”

I hike up a brow. “Oh, if that’s the case, then why did I come out of class to a duck on my driver’s side handle?”

He blinks at me, the picture of innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You and your little Jeep cult can do your own thing, but I want no part of it.”

“Really? That’s the story you wanna go with?”

“Yeah…” he says slowly.

Oh, you’re so full of shit.

I shift to dig my hand into my pocket and pull out my phone. It doesn’t take more than three seconds to swipe open my photos and find the image of the little duck left on my vehicle today. It’s a little white duck wearing a leather vest with an orange mohawk on its head and barbed wire tattoos on each of its wings. And while it’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever seen, I’d be a bold-faced liar if I said finding it today didn’t give me the biggest smile.

Flipping my phone screen to face him, I say, “You’re gonna tell me some random ass person happened to have this duck on hand to put on my Jeep? And it has nothing to do with us going to see Icarus a couple weeks ago?”

Phoenix bites his lip as he looks at the screen before shrugging. “Nope. Not me. But maybe they saw Jerry and thought he needed a friend.”

“Mhmm,” I mutter, watching his features closely before pocketing my phone again. “I’m sure that’s exactly whattheywere thinking.”

“I’d bet my life on it,” he simply states, but I don’t miss the little twinkle in his brown irises or how they crinkle just a little more around the edges when he smiles.

It’s always his eyes that give him away.

Twenty-Seven

Phoenix

If there was a photo beside the wordregretin the dictionary, it would be of me right now; sitting on the couch in the townhouse, watching the stupid Super Bowl, all while two idiots constantly banter back and forth for the entire game.

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