He flinches and laughs. “I meant in movies and documentaries. Not real life.”
I kick him with my foot. “Asshole. I’m sure you’ve never even been to this part of town.”
“Of course,” he says. “It’s where I get my meth.”
“Terrible,” I say, smiling and shaking my head, and right on cue, a car alarm goes off in the distance. Nice. Now all I need is a screeching cat and shattering glass and the picture will be complete. “So where did you grow up? Bel Air? Beverly Hills? The Playboy Mansion?”
“Boston,” he says.
“Oh—really?” I say, surprised. An East Coast guy. “How’d you end up out here?”
“The business,” he says.
“Family business, right?”
“Yep,” he says, giving me another bare-minimum answer.
“So…” I begin slowly, “who else works? You never really told me. Does the whole family work for the company? Mom, Dad, brothers or sisters?” I find myself wanting to know more about him.
I like him, that’s for sure. So I want to know more about him.
Rex isn’t looking at me. His eyes gaze out the plate-glass window at the streetlight outside. I set my water glass down on the floor beside the bed and scoot closer to him. I run my hand across his chest, the sweat now dry. I feel his heart beating beneath my hand, a sure, steady rhythm. He turns his eyes to me. His hand reaches for my thigh and strokes it gently.
“I guess I figured you knew,” he says. “Most people, when they know a little about what I do or how much I have, look the rest up. Not that I expected you to. It’s nice that you didn’t actually.”
That makes me feel warm, especially with the way his fingers continue to play across my thigh reassuringly.
I blink. “You’re still making me think that maybe I should have Googled you.”
He moves closer to me and rests his head on my thigh, his eyes up at the ceiling. I immediately dig my hands in his thick curls, smoothing them back from his forehead.
“I have two older brothers. My mother lives overseas. Father passed away—and don’t tell me you’re sorry about that or anything,” he says quickly. “He was a great businessman and a terrible father.”
“That’s all?”
“There’s a reason I live clear across the country from my brothers, Addison,” he says. “And the only people who like talking about their families are people who get along with theirs. So are you going to tell me about yours?”
I think about how little I left behind in Oregon, including Jim and Laurie. I can’t even call them parents anymore even though they legally adopted me when I was a baby. Adopted and swore to be my parents but left out the love part of things.
“I’d rather not,” I say. “But maybe someday.”
He smiles. “I hope to never have to burden you with my family bullshit.”
“It wouldn’t be a burden,” I say.
“It’d be a pain in the ass for me to talk about, how about that?” he says.
I stroke back his hair, loving the way my hand half disappears into the softness.
“Well, I don’t know if you got this gorgeous mound of hair from your mother or father but you can at least thank them for that.”
“That feels nice.” He closes his eyes as I massage his head.
“I may live in a dump but you’ll always get a free head massage when you stop by,” I joke.
“I might need one if that ceiling caves in,” he says. “Are you sure those water stains are old?” I look up at the ceiling. “If it breaks it’s going to come down right on top of you.”
“The manager isn’t going to bother unless that happens. And maybe not even then.”
“The neighborhood isn’t safe,” he adds, eyes still closed.
“You said yourself,” I say. “Great place to get meth.”
“You should really reconsider the marriage arrangement,” he says.
My hand pauses for a brief moment. I’m not sure which is weirder—talking about marriage to a total stranger like last night, or talking about marriage with a guy I just met, have had wild sex with, and who I think I really like.
“Rex,” I sigh, shaking my head.
“You’d live with me in the Hills,” he continues. “You’d be safe, for one thing. Taken care of. Your life would be so much easier.”
“And I’d get to see you all the time, right?”
“Of course. A lifetime of me.”
“And Sheldon,” I add.
“For all your needs,” he says. “Well, not all of them.”
“Ha ha.”
“Just think about it.”
He seems genuinely serious, which sort of rattles me. It’s strange how comfortable I am with him, despite having just met him. I realize I don’t even know his brothers’ names, but I know I can be honest with him and it won’t bristle him.
“Are you being serious about this whole marriage thing?” I ask.
“Completely.”
“You do know how insane it is, right? To want to marry someone you’ve known for two days and who you don’t even love.”
“As long as both people are getting something they want, it seems fair to me.”
I keep brushing his hair with my fingers, flabbergasted. He really is crazy.
“Will you at least tell me what the rush is to get married?” I ask him. “Are you pregnant or something?”
“Ha, very funny,” he says, keeping his eyes closed. “But I have my reasons. I will say they have to do with my family—but that’s all I’ll say, at least for now.”
I do think about what he’s proposing, and then I answer. “If there’s one thing I learned from the crappy marriage I had to live with growing up, it’s that I’m only going to marry for love.”
“But I’m so loveable,” he quips.
“I’m serious, Rex,” I say, and I stop with the head massage. He opens his eyes and looks at me.
“Okay,” he says, watching me now.
“I will never marry for convenience or money or anything other than love. Call me naïve or old-fashioned but I’m not budging on that. As heartfelt as your offer is,” I add, if for no other reason than to try to keep a serious subject light.
Rex sits up and faces me. “What I heard is that you’ll think about it.”
“Rex, I’m completely serious.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, fine.”
“Good,” I say, not sure it is good that he’s given up so quickly on the idea.
I actually kind of find myself liking the idea of spending as much time as humanly possible with him.
“And Addison,” he says between little kisses on my lips.
“Hmmm…”
“I don’t want to freak you out,” he says. “But there’s a roach crawling across your bed.”
I literally leap out of the bed screaming, hopping on my bare feet and scuttling away. I never see the roach but Rex finds a shoe and is pounding the floor where it must have made its escape.
“Gross, gross, gross,” I mumble like a crazy person.