Page 28 of Tell Me Everything

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Moaning, she tightens her hold. The only thing that stops me is a car honking the next street over.

Stepping back with an effort, I smirk. “Didn’t mean to maul you there.”

She gazes up at me, sassy and red-faced. “I’m not complaining. Does this mean you forgive me for running out on you?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I tell her sternly. “You did what you thought was best.”

“And…”

I lean forward, looking directly into her eyes. She stares back with an intoxicating mixture of shyness and bravery. “I don’t give a damn that you’re a virgin, okay? So get that thought out of your pretty little head.”

She giggles, slapping my chest playfully. “I never knew I had a pretty little head.”

I grin. “Well, you do.”

She climbs inside the car as I walk around to the driver’s side. But I can’t resist sneaking another glance at her.

She’s killing me with the way she grips onto her thighs. It seems to be a nervous habit, but all it does is churn me up inside, and drive me to the point where all I can think about is stripping her naked and taking her hard against my car.

“How was your day?” she asks, as I pull away from the curb.

“Not bad,” I tell her. “I saw my friend and manager, Freddie. And then I dealt with some charity stuff.”

“What sort of stuff?” she asks.

“I went by the office to record a few promos. Last year was our best in terms of donations. We’ve been able to open four new facilities for people suffering from brain injuries.”

“Oh.” She interlocks her fingers, looking at me and then down at her hands. “I love how much charity work you do.”

I shrug. “I’ve got more money than I’ll ever need. I’ve got enough that I’m set for life. So are my kids, if I ever have any.”

I add the last bit to mask the fact that I need to have children… with her, only with her.

“Why brain injuries?” she murmurs.

“Football.” I sigh. “It’s not a popular topic, but I know a lot of people who are suffering because of how much damage they took. I got off lucky. It’s a miracle, really. Maybe my skull is too thick.”

She giggles, and then grows quiet. It’s like I can hear her thinking, working up to saying something, but she’s holding herself back.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She grits her teeth, looking all around the car, clearly not wanting to meet my eyes.

“Where are we going?” she says.

“That sounds like you’re changing the subject.”

“Maybe,” she murmurs.

“So…”

She sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t want to ruin this, Preston.”

“You can’t ruin it by being honest.”

She falls quiet again and something tugs at my chest, the thought that she can’t be completely honest with me. Or maybe she’s not ready to talk about it – whatever it is – yet.

“Did you answer your reader’s question?” I ask.

The change in her demeanor is magical to see. It’s like mentioning her blog, her passion brings her out of whatever funk she’s fallen into.

“I did. It was a lot easier with some personal experience to draw on. Though I left out the part where I ran from your car.”

“And the part about what we did before, I hope,” I say.

“Why? Are you ashamed?”

I’m getting better at reading my woman. I can tell she means her words to come across as sassy and confident, but there’s a tinge to it, as though part of her truly believes I could ever be embarrassed by her.

“No,” I growl. “There’s no way I could be ashamed of you, of us. I just don’t want the whole world thinking of you like that.”

She looks at me for a long time, as though trying to figure out if I’m telling her the truth.

“Preston, I’m sorry…”

“Why?”

She sighs. “I have to ask you something. I don’t want to. But something happened at work today.”

My stomach clamps.

Lena.

I know I’m right before she confirms it.

“What happened with you and Lena? She implied some pretty nasty things earlier. She called you cruel.”

“Maybe she’s right,” I say gruffly. “It’s all a matter of perspective.”

“So what happened?”

“Are you sure you want to talk about my ex-girlfriend?”

“No, not really,” she says. “But I have to know.”

I nod, though my first instinct is to shut the conversation down. It’s different for men and women.

Plus, I don’t want Penny thinking I’d ever be cold with her.

I pull the car into a parking lot, slip into an empty spot and kill the engine. Sitting back, I let out a groan.

There’s no way to avoid this. And I can’t not tell her the truth.

“Okay,” I say, as she waits patiently. “I’ll tell you everything.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Penny

I’m still reeling from what he said, that he doesn’t care that I’m a virgin.

My imagination spiraled into crazy territory when he told me. It was the way he looked at me, his features tight, his eyes blazing like he preferred me being a virgin.


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