Page 21 of Drunk on You (Hope Town 4)

I click the burner off, move the pan of scrambled eggs to the back burner, and exhale loudly. "I'm not a liar."

"You aren't." His response instant and without doubt. "But that doesn't mean you won't stretch the truth when you don't want to give me everything." His touch burns when he grabs my hips and pulls me away from the stove. His body fits against mine more firmly now; his erection a heavy reminder against the small of my back. "Make a note, mon colibri; I don't give a shit about much, but when I ask you a question, I want the whole truth. No matter what."

I nod, not trusting my voice.

"Your ex, he didn't like it if you didn't say what he wanted to hear, did he?"

I'm beyond grateful that he can't see my face. The shame I feel knowing that I let Seth's short temper affect my life in such a negative way for years isn't something I will ever be able to get over. I can grow from it, but I will always remember how much I let a man dictate how I lived just because he was a big fat jerk. How to think. What to say. Who to be. Pure. Shame.

"Like you, he likes to be in control."

Shane's hands get tight, their hold on my hips pinching slightly. Before I can say anything or adjust my body, his touch eases.

"I'm nothing like him, Nikki. Don't ever lump me in the same likeness as a man who resorts to scare tactics to get a woman he didn't deserve in the first place."

"I ... that's not what I meant."

"I know," Shane interjects, stopping me before I can say anything more. "I want to make it clear, though, that the man I am, the control I need, isn't the same as what he used on you to make himself feel like a bigger man."

"Do you think we could have this chat with food and maybe less ... erection? It's distracting."

Shane laughs, a short burst of gravelly noise that sounds rusty and unused. "Yeah, Nik. I think that's a good idea." His hands leave at the same time he steps back, and I instantly regret saying anything. "You look good in my shirt," he says with a smile to his voice, plucking at the collar, dragging one finger down my neck, and then hooking it around the top button. "I was wondering where this ended up."

"Sc-" I clear my throat, swallowing thickly. "Scrambled okay?"

"Yeah, scrambled is good."

I don't look at him while I move around the kitchen. I give him the majority of what I had cooked, piling the eggs and bacon on his plate before grabbing some toast and setting it to the side to grab a much smaller portion for myself. He takes both plates from me and walks them over to the table. I watch his back, the thick muscles flexing as he moves, and when I feel myself get wet between my legs, I shake the desire from my head. He shouldn't be allowed to be shirtless.

"Juice, coffee, or water?"

He turns, looking back at me. "Juice is good, Nik."

I nod, trying not to get sucked into just how handsome he looks sleep rumpled and half naked in my apartment. "Juice, got it. Two orange juices coming right up."

He smirks, and I narrow my eyes. Clearly, I'm not hiding my emotions as well as he can. I might as well have a big neon sign above my head that says 'hot, wet, and needy' at this point.

I grab the orange juice and make quick work of getting the cups down. I see him out of the corner of my eye sit and relax against the chair while he waits. The tiniest of things, him not starting to eat, makes me stop mid pour. My head turns, drinks forgotten, as I blink at him, unmoving, while I process his manners.

"What?" he asks, one brow arched, his one heavily tattooed arm resting in his lap while his ink-free one toys with the edges of the lesson plans I had dropped on the table yesterday.

"You can eat." My frown deepening when he shakes his head. "Really."

"I'll eat when you sit."

"But it will get cold."

I can still hear Seth screaming at me when I would get upset that he would be halfway finished with any meal before I even had a chance to fix my plate, let alone sit. The nasty words he would say. His lack of compassion for the woman who waited on him hand and foot, always wanting to make him happy even at my own expense. One thing he always spewed in my direction was that he couldn't stomach eating cold food. I heard it so much over the years when we were together that I'm not surprised a little anxiety over upsetting Shane with a cold meal is popping up. Boy, did Seth screw me up. Apparently, worse than I realized if he's invading my thoughts right now.

I'm not sure how long I silently freaked over the past, but when I look back up at Shane, he's as calm as alwa

ys. His steady gaze seemingly too knowing.

"Then I'll eat it cold," he finally says, not looking away or hiding that he's taking notes on my reactions.

"But," I stutter. My eyes grow wide when Shane pushes his chair back and walks over to me, taking over pouring the rest of the juice before putting the container back in the fridge. I watch as he picks up both glasses, dips his head, and presses a featherlight kiss to my temple.

"We'll discuss why you look so scared about my food being cold later, but for now, let's eat, okay?"

I don't answer, but I do take a deep breath, grab some silverware, and walk to the table, pulling my chair out and dropping down in it. His scent fills my nostrils when his arm reaches around me to place my drink down, easing some of my nerves instantly. I pick up my fork and start eating, not once looking at him but seeing his hand move to do the same. We eat in silence--not uncomfortable but not exactly without a little strain. He wants to ask; I can feel it hanging in the air around us. The unspoken questions about why I would freak out over something so stupid. As embarrassing as it is, he deserves to know about my weird hang-ups. Fake relationship or not, we're a team until we beat our competition--meaning the exes.

"Seth wasn't a nice guy," I begin, but stop when Shane grumbles. When I look up, he waves me on and stuffs a huge fork full of eggs into his mouth. "Save the sarcasm, starboy, I doubt your ex was without faults."

"You've got that right, cherie; she had more than a few."

"Right, well, as I was saying," I reply, keeping my gaze locked with his even though I want to look away. "Let's just put it this way; Seth liked to have things done a certain way, and when they weren't, he didn't shy away from using his words to let me know what I was doing wrong."

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