"And now?"
"I don't know. You've changed."
"You have too."
"Maybe."
"You're starting your own business."
"Eventually." She finishes her last sip of coffee. "In a long, long time."
"It will come up fast."
She sets her mug down. Traces its rim. "I know. But I don't want to talk about leaving."
Fair enough. I nod. Inhale my food. She worked me hard last night. I'm starving.
"I guess I gave up on guys long before I gave up on my mom. There wasn't really anything notable. Just a long string of shitty boyfriends. One day, I was at work, crying in the bathroom because I'd just gotten dumped via text, again, and I decided I was done. I was done choosing the wrong men."
"Did it work?"
"Sorta. I kept choosing guys who weren't boyfriend material, but I stopped trying to make them my boyfriend. I stayed in control. I missed that feeling of intimacy, believing I could trust someone. But it was better that way. Easier."
"Why'd you stop?"
"Sleeping around?"
"Yeah."
"It doesn't bother you?"
"I don't like thinking about you with other guys."
She chews on her bottom lip. Her blue-green eyes flare with concern.
"But, no, I don't care that you used to sleep around. It doesn't matter how many people you've been with before."
"It's not that many."
"It could be a thousand or one. Wouldn't matter to me either way."
"Really?"
"Really." I know her well enough to know she's telling the truth. Those guys didn't matter to her. They had her body, yeah, but they never had her head or her heart.
And the ones who did, who manipulated that younger, more trusting version of Leighton—
If I ever meet any of them, I'll punch their douchebag faces.
"That's incredibly evolved of you," she says.
"Learned from you."
She shakes her head. "No. I'm not there. I get sick thinking about you and Penny."
"Still?"
"Yeah." She finishes her last bite. Pushes her plate away. "But I'm getting better. Thinking about it less."
"Me too."
She pushes herself to her feet. "I want to shower. But I have to do my hair first. And I don't want to waste our time together."
"I'll help."
She raises a brow. "I don't know."
"You think I'm not capable."
She moves closer. Reaches down to run three fingers through my locks. "Tell me these are natural."
"Natural?"
"That you're not doing at home perms?"
"At home whats?"
"Perms!" She makes that ugh noise. "Men have it so easy. No makeup. No chemical treatments. No high heels."
"You don't need any of that shit. You look fucking amazing right now."
Her cheeks flush. "Thank you. But I like that shit."
"Then don't complain."
She flips me off.
I grab her wrist, bring her finger to my lips, suck on her fingertip.
Her knees press together. "I will do my hair before I fuck you."
"While you fuck me?"
She shakes her head. "In my shower cap? No. Wait." She giggles as she pulls her finger back. "I'm skipping too many steps. You can't see me in a shower cap."
"I bet you look fucking amazing?"
She shakes her head.
"Twenty bucks."
"Who are you, Dean?"
I shudder. "Never say that again."
"Or?"
"Or I'll punish you."
"You're not doing a good job convincing me."
I take my last bite, chew, swallow. "Or I won't punish you."
She laughs. "That's better."
"What if I wear one too."
She brushes my hair up my head, first the right side, then the left. "Hmm. I think you'll look more ridiculous than I will."
"I wore a cap on swim team."
"You did not."
"I did."
"You have pictures?"
"I was twelve, you perv."
She laughs. "How about you recreate it for me later?"
"Sure." I press my lips to hers. "In Hawaii."
Her lips curl into a frown. It's a quick thing. A second, and she's smiling again. "Okay. Come with me."
I follow her to the bathroom.
She places the lid on the toilet seat, motions for me to sit.
I slide my arms around her waist instead.
She leans into my touch. "I will send you home."
"You won't."
"Are you testing me?"
"I need a reason to hold you?"
In the mirror, her eyes catch mine. "Okay. Stay there. One step back. Be good."
I release her. Step backward. "Good?"
"No funny business." She reaches for the hem of her tank top, bends her arms to pull it over her head.
"This is entrapment, baby."
She shrugs is it? "I don't want to startle you. But I'm about to put on something even sexier?"
"Than you topless?"
She folds her arms over her chest. Her expression gets shy.
It's fucking adorable.
God, there's something about seeing take no prisoners, I get off on showing off my tits Leighton shy.
It's hot.
And sweet.
I'm not sure whether I want to fuck her or hold her.
Her ass brushes against my crotch as she bends at the waist.
That answers that question.
My fingers curl into her hips.
"After." She swallows hard. Her breath gets erratic as she opens the cabinet, pulls a shoe box from it. She rolls from her hips to rise. Sets the box on the counter.
"You'd turn me down?"
She bites her lip. "I had this idea."
"Yeah?"
She pulls the lid from the box, finds an old Inked Hearts t-shirt stained with half a dozen different colors, dons it. "I never got to give you that lap dance."
My cock stirs.
"I thought we could do that after."
Conscious thought flees my brain.
"If you're into it."
"Yeah."
"It's not too trashy?"
"Isn't that the appeal?"
"Well… I guess it's obvious I like showing off my body."
I nod.
"You could try to look surprised."
My thoughts return with my laugh. I wrap my arms around her. Plant a kiss on her neck. "Does it turn you on, the thought of being my personal stripper?"
Her nod is heavy.
"Then I fucking love it."
"Okay." Her blush spreads to her chest. "What do you want me to wear?"
"Same shit you always wear."
She arches a brow. "Not a schoolgirl outfit or something?"
"No."
"But isn't that the fantasy?"
"How many times do I have to tell you, Leigh? You are my fantasy."