Page 203 of The Liar's Reckoning

“Weird answer, but technically pro-choice.”

“That was a pretty pro-life answer.”

“They aren’t opposites,” I tell him. “Advocating for life and allowing people the choice to make their own decisions is still pro-choice. Basically, it means you’re not a total asshole.”

He huffs against my neck. “Give me another one.”

It’s not that I want to play this game with him, but I do want him to understand he’s more than he thinks he is, so I humor him with an easy one. “Gay marriage.”

“Is that a trick question?”

“No.”

“I have no problem whatsoever with gay marriage. I’m gay. Give me a harder one.”

“I don’t want to spend our last twenty minutes talking about this stuff. I’ll text you a tough one later.”

“Really?” he asks, like I’m offering him an award.

“Sure,” I humor him. “I’ll make a list on the ride back to the city.”

He kisses my neck. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

“Can I call you tonight? After your dinner?”

“Yeah.” I might as well let him. It’s not like fourteen hours of mind-blowing sex and intimate conversations has made melessdelusional about us.

I want to trust him. I want to know him again. I don’t know whether it’s possible, but I want him with the same kind of tenacity that had me taking an escort job to keep my mom alive a few years longer.

Maybe I should give up on him. Maybe I should have a long time ago. But I haven’t. And maybe that means I can’t. “Can I take a picture of us?” I ask.

“Right now?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’ve got worse things on your phone.”

I don’t anymore, but I don’t tell him that. I reach for my phone and turn on the selfie camera, smiling at his messy hair and kiss-bitten lips. I avoid the lovesick look in my own eyes by framing the photo to include only our faces side by side. He smiles softly, the angle of his gaze telling me he’s not looking athimself either. I manage my own vague smile and snap three photos. “I’d send them to you, but…”

“Send them to my other phone. Here, I’ll put the number in.” He grabs my phone and deftly adds a second number under his contact. Then he gives my phone back. He waits while I text the pictures to the new number. Something somewhere beeps.

His cock, still inside me, stiffens again.

62

SILAS

Isleep on the train and for a few more hours after I drag my very well-fucked ass back to my apartment. At six, I get up when my alarm goes off, take a shower, and check my phone to make sure the plans for dinner didn’t change while I was sleeping.

There are three messages from Graham’s second phone.

Graham2

Did you make it back okay?

What time do you think you’ll be done with dinner?

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