Page 42 of Show Me How
“Explain that to me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I like that you don’t know me for who I was there. It’s given me the freedom to try and find who I am without all of that,” she explains tightly, avoiding my eyes.
“Unless you’ve changed your entire personality, I can’t see that happening.”
“That’s the thing. I hardly know you, but I still know enough to tell that you’d have hated me if we’d met anywhere else.”
“That’s a bold statement,” I declare, a little annoyed at her assumption.
“It’s the truth. I’d never have allowed myself to sit at a bar with a stranger and spend hours speaking with him. If I’d so much as looked at you back home—a guy with tattoos from head to toe and an arrogant grin—I’d have turned away and left. Not because I wouldn’t have thought you were attractive, but because it would have led to nothing but trouble.”
“Was your goal for dinner tonight to stomp on my ego?”
She shrinks into herself slightly, lips tugging down. “No. I’m just . . . Things are different here, is what I’m saying. You called us friends, and I like that. Friends aren’t really my thing back home. Any that I do have aren’t there because they enjoy my company. It’s all about status and money.”
“You can’t change who you are at your core by driving a few hours from your hometown, Millie. You’re either a good person or you’re not. That’s not something you can pretend. I don’t care how confident someone is on their ability to wear a mask. I’ll see through it.”
“I know I’m a good person. I’m just not who I want to be yet.”
“So, that’s why you’re staying? To figure out who you really are?”
Her eyes find mine, so bright there’s no mistaking her words for honesty. “Yeah, I think that’s what I’m hoping for.”
“Consider me a part of this mission, then.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I’m intrigued by who you are already. I’d be missing out not seeing the final stages, wouldn’t I?”
“That, or grateful when I learn that I’m into something really weird.”
“I like a bit of weird,” I poke, finishing the last bite of my pizza.
Millie gives my shoulder a bump. “So, friends?”
“Friends, but I haven’t forgotten about last night either.”
“What does that have to do with being friends?” she asks, her voice swooping up in pitch.
“I don’t make a habit of flirting like that with my friends, princess. Either you put an end to that right now, or the label of friends is going to get a bit weighted.”
Her throat pulls with a swallow. The crust of her pizza joins the rest of the untouched slices in the box, and then she’s twisting her body sideways. With her knees pressing into my thigh, she inhales deeply.
“Did you mean what you said?”
“Be specific,” I push gently, ignoring the quickening of my pulse.
Glancing up at the ceiling, she drops a hand to her leg, digging her fingers into the fabric of her tights. “About making exceptions to your rule?”
My groin tightens, blood pooling there and making my temperature rise. I drape an arm along the back of the couch, needing to try and loosen my tight muscles. The heat from her body makes my skin buzz with excitement.
“For you?” I ask.
Her lips part, her tongue gliding along the bottom one. “Yeah. Yes, yeah for me.”
