Page 214 of The Liar's Reckoning

“If you’re not gonna fuck me, the least you can do is talk to me.”

His hand moves up and down my stiff cock over my pants. “I can do both.”

“You’re torturing me for some reason.”

“Just torture. No reason.”

“Silas,” I whimper as he finally sucks some of my skin between his teeth. I wrap my hands around his ass and press into him. “I’m seeing my dad tomorrow.”

“Are you asking me to stop?”

“No. Jesus. No.”

He sucks harder. I lean my head to give him more room, worked into a state beyond caring.

“Are you planning to tell him who did this to you?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

He stops, nipping my earlobe with his teeth before pulling away. “You want a drink?”

What?

I’m shaking my head at the same time I’m touching the spot on my neck where I doubt he had enough time to leave a decent mark. He was talking too much. “Why?” I ask.

“Because I need one.”

“Is everything all right?”

“You sure you want me to answer that?” he asks as he leaves me standing in a full state of arousal to go to the kitchen where there are even more moving boxes than last time.

“Yes,” I decide is my honest answer. “I do want to know if you’re okay.”

“To tell the truth, I’ve been wondering if I was a shitty boyfriend,” he says. “What do you think?”

I frown.That’s what he was thinking about?“What are you talking about?”

“Have you ever been around two people who are really in love—like I go where you go, what’s mine is yours kind of love?”

“I’m not sure I personally know anyone like that, but I don’t doubt it exists.”

“I actually loved you like that,” he says with his back to me.

I was about to enter the kitchen, but I freeze, catching the doorway so I don’t stumble in my surprise.

“Granted,” he continues, “I wasn’t operating with all the information I should have had, but I would have lived in that apartment and been your secret forever if you and Avery had stayed married.”

“Yeah?” I ask, the word cracking on its way out.

“Crazy, right?”

I don’t have an answer for that.

“If you’d known that—at the time—would it have made a difference?” he asks.

“Love wasn’t the issue, Silas.”

“No, I know,” he says. “But if you’d known—or believed, I guess I should say—that I would have stood by you through anything even if it meant I’d have to get raked over the coals, do you think you might have tried harder to figure something out? Or was ghosting me just easier?”

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