Page 82 of Wicked Sin

“Did you think I might be?”

He hesitates. “Yes.”

Well, that’s honest.

He holds out his hand, and I take his phone. The video is looping on the screen. I tap the corner of the app, and the volume comes on.

Yep, that’s Gerome’s yacht all right. I know it well enough. And there’s the President of the United States, before he was POTUS, sprawled out on a couch, a young woman probably not even old enough to be called a woman on his lap.

“I could be in this video,” I admit. “I’ve been at parties like this.”

“But not this one?”

“I don’t think so. It’s past my time in his social group.”

“Have you ever been in a situation like this with Victor Best?”

I hesitate. “I don’t think so.”

“But you aren’t sure?”

“Gerome likes his girls to be high.” My stomach threatens to purge itself, but I keep going. “There’s a lot I don’t remember.”

Luke’s jaw flexes, his eyes sharp and unwavering. “How long have you been clean?”

I bristle. I can’t help it. There’s a limit to my openness and being accused of being a junkie is past it. “Excuse me?”

“Let me rephrase.”

“Please do.”

“He forced you to do drugs?”

“Yes. It was never something I used outside of his company. I’m lucky to not have an addictive personality, I guess. It’s my only redeeming quality, though, so it doesn’t count for that much.”

“You have many redeeming qualities. When was the last time you…”

“Years ago. Gerome also likes his girls to be girls, or at least to play at that. There’s nothing innocent about me, as you know.”

“I don’t know that at all,” Luke says, his voice silky. “I think in many ways you are too damn innocent for your own damn good.”

“Are you mad at me?” I glare at him, because what the fuck?

“Fuck no.”

Okay, so that’s both of us on edge and angry now. But not at each other.

“Come here.” He takes my hand, his fingers warm and strong, and leads me downstairs. “Do you want a drink?”

“No.”

“Tea? Coffee?”

“Any chance you have the makings of a banana split?”

He laughs. “Sorry. But you—Ms. Turns Her Nose Up At Everything—love banana splits?”

“Rude. And yes, of course I do.” I roll my eyes. “What’s not to love about them?”

---