Admitting I’m wrong isn’t one of my strengths, so if I’m going to do something that makes my skin crawl, I’m going allin.
Crossing into the sitting area, I take a seat on the glass table in front of her and lean forward with my elbows on my knees. “I said, you’re right. I had no right to do what I did. I could blame it on a lot of things, but the truth is I just lostcontrol.”
“I shouldn’t have followedyou.”
“No, you shouldn’t have, but I also don’t make a habit out of forcing women to touch me. Not that it’s an issue, of course. You’re actually the first one to make me work forit.”
She fights a smirk, still balanced across the armrest. “You’ve acquired quite the overinflated sense of confidence since I left, haven’tyou?”
“A lot of things have changed since youleft.”
Her smirk fades, and she doesn’t respond. I don’t expect her to, because she’ll never understand. Confidence is something I’ve had to work hard to earn—mostly in a two-year crash course behind prisonwalls.
That kind of shit changes aman.
She brushes the left side of her hair forward again. I wonder if it’s intentional, or if it’s become such an automatic need to hide her one flaw she doesn’t realize it.“Look, it’s late, and I don’t want to rehash the past and fightagain.”
Good in theory, but there are two problems with her attempt to kick me out. One, my only way home is probably joyriding my car around town, and two, there’s no way in hell I’m leaving without settling this shit once and forall.
“Then let’s rehash it and notfight.”
Shiloh lets out a hollow laugh. “That’s not possible. For God’s sake, you still call meShallow.”
Fuck. I knew that would come back and bite me in theass.
“I did that once, and it was to be adick.”
“So you admit it,” she says, pointing a finger atme.
“Hell yeah. Do you think I was gonna let you get assigned to my center after seven years and not fuck withyou?”
Her arms squeeze across her chest, pushing her breasts over the rim of her flimsy tank top. After that display, I can’t help my eyes from lowering to where her thighs grip the armrest, filling my mind with images of how they’d feel wrapped around my waist. I know I should focus on her words, but shit, I’m onlyhuman.
“Okay, I deserved that,” she agrees. “But I’m not the same person I was back then. Jesus, I’m not the same person I was six monthsago.”
This conversation has gotten way too damn heavy, and I need a drink before she does something stupid, like make me talk about my feelings.So, I give her my best panty-dropping smile and distract the hell out ofher.
“You’ve left me sitting in this weird ass parlor over fifteen minutes and haven’t offered me a drink. What kind of Southern woman areyou?”
My diversion tactic works, because Shiloh opens and closes her mouth a few times before finally shutting it. Standing, she motions me down a long hallway. After making a left and two or three rights, she extends a tanned arm toward the biggest living room I’ve everseen.
“Well, are you going to sit, or would you like a written invitation?” she says, motioning toward the pristine white leathercouch.
Taking a seat on the edge of a white leather couch, I glance over my shoulder and see Shiloh standing over a wet bar holding a glass in herhand.
“What’s yourpoison?”
“Whiskey, if you have it,” I say, managing to not sound like a money-struckmoron.
As Shiloh fixes my drink, I notice two gold-plated mirrors hanging side by side on the wall directly in front of me. Black trash bags are crudely taped over the mirror part, covering each one as if constructed in a frenzy. Walking across the room, I run my finger down wrinkled plastic, the ugliness of the lawn bags against the elegance of the room a harshcontrast.
I can’t imagine Bianca West doing this. It makes me wonder what the hell happened to make someone cover them with something so bizarre. Without thinking, I shift my finger to the edge of the silver duct tape, chipping at it with my thumb until the plastic starts to peelback.
A rattle of ice is the only warning I get before glass shatters by my feet and Shiloh jerks my hand away from themirror.
“Don’t!” she screams. After seeing the surprised look on my face, she clears her throat, tempering her reaction. “I mean, please don't dothat.”
Close, Starshine, but it doesn’t work thatway.
