He chuckled. “No, you shut up. Not like a regular woman? What’s that supposed to mean? You have nuances, Star. If someone gives enough of a fuck about you, then that someone will learn them.
“You think I don’t have nuances of my own? There’s a reason I topped Manhattan’s most eligible bachelor list for so long.”
“What reason?”
His arm tightened around me. “I don’t like people in my space.”
I should probably have cringed considering I’d eaten over half the room on the couch and was making his personal space my own, but I didn’t even bother fidgeting at his words.
I knew that I’d disturbed him. When I’d settled at his side, I’d felt his lips brush the crown of my head, so he could have told me to get back into bed if he’d wanted.
Now, I felt his arm around me.
He was making damn sure that I knew, to him, I wasn’t people.
“Wheredoyou like people?”
“Wherever I’m not. Apart from family. Family, I’m more… hell, shall we say, permissive with?”
“Why?”
“Because you have to let someone in. Plus, I didn’t have a choice. I grew up with them. They were already in. It was nice to get them out when we all moved into our own places, but it’s a habit. Like Katina and Savannah are with you.”
Slowly, I nodded. “I get that.”
“Shay and Jake are different though.”
“You don’t like hanging around them?”
“Nah, I love it. I wasn’t sure if I would because kids aren’t something I’ve ever had much experience with. But Shay’s wicked smart and he has so much potential.
“Jake’s already got an attitude and he’s a toddler. I’m more scared he’ll break than Shay though.”
“Toddlers are resilient.”
“He wails the fucking house down if he bangs his head on something,” he pointed out.
“Wouldn’t you?”
“I swear.”
“He can’t, can he?” I retorted, tone droll. “You swear; he wails.”
“True. But, anyway, I choose my people carefully and it’s hard to become one of them.”
I knew he said that on purpose.
“I don’t deserve to be in your inner circle.”
“I get to decide that. Not you. Anyway, it’s not like you’re arguing. You came to me last night.”
I had.
I didn’t immediately reply, just let his words percolate.
“Where did you pick up on that dialect?”
“The one Anton speaks?” At his hum, I looked down at his forearms. What was it about men’s forearms that were so sexy? Letting my eyes flutter to a close, I answered, “My nanny spoke it. I learned it from her. Have to think Mom picked her for a reason now.”