Page 60 of Fierce-Gabe

“Guilty,” he said. “Guess we are both guilty of doing a lot of stupid shit when we were young.”

“It seems it,” she said. “Now what?”

“Now we can put it behind us. No more. You said what you did and why and I’ve said what I did and why. We were kids and we’d been drinking.”

“Not enough to get drunk,” she said. “I knew what I was doing. I remembered a lot. That when I told you it was my first time you stopped. You said more than once we could.”

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

“Because you knew me or not?” she asked.

“It wouldn’t have mattered who you were,” he said. “You could have been a stranger and I was still going to act the same.”

“I was a stranger to you,” she said. “You just knew my name and family. And that is another thing. Back then, I was just so embarrassed that you’d judge me as this slut. I didn’t want my father to ever know and find out. When you called me by name after, I just freaked because of that too.”

“I’d never tell anyone,” he said. “I didn’t. I didn’t and don’t make a habit of telling anyone who I sleep with.”

“I’m sure it’s a large number,” she said, smirking. “That face and all.” He kept his mouth shut. “I get it. I don’t want to know.”

“Back to us. Anything else I need to know?”

“Nothing that I can think of,” she said. “You’re okay now? I mean you’ve got a wall to fix and all. I just seem to bring that out of people. I’m bound to do it again.”

He laughed. “I’m sure you will, but it’s not going to be for the same reason.”

“I’ll find other things to piss you off,” she said, laughing. “I’m good at that. But I’ll own up to it if I’m wrong.”

“I’m going to be wrong too at times,” he said. “No worries there. I work a lot.”

“The same,” she said. “I’m not my mother. At least when it comes to that. I know this business. I know how it works. And honestly, I don’t want a man in my face all the time.”

“Good to know,” he said.

“I’ll give you more of a warning before I show up again,” she said. She was banking on it based on what he’d said so far. “Maybe enough time to clean up.”

He coughed on the drink he was taking. He’d gotten himself a bottle of water too. “Sorry about the messy room.”

“It’s fine.”

“No,” he said. “It’s not. I can be a slob. Jayce makes comments all the time. He was here for Thanksgiving and giving me shit. I threw all my laundry on the floor in the laundry room figuring he’d not go in there. He did do laundry since he’d been on the road. For Christmas I made sure it was cleaned up.”

“You just left the dirty clothes in your room?” she asked.

“I washed them this time. I’d gotten behind on them again,” he admitted. “I changed my sheets though this morning.”

“Washed or changed them?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Changed them. The ones we were on are in the laundry.”

“On the floor?”

He laughed. “Maybe.”

“It doesn’t bother you that I say it like it is?” she asked.

“Does it look it to you?”

“No. But not all men care about it.”

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