The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,83
and nudge his calf with my foot. “Here.”
He opens his eyes and takes the Cuban I’m holding between us. “Seriously?” he asks, rolling it between his fingers. “You’re the fucking best.” I smile proudly as he smells and then puffs on it several times. “Sure you want to waste this on me?” he asks, blowing a cloud of white, silky smoke between us.
“Can you think of a better situation for one?”
“Better than a post-fuck bubble bath? I don’t know if one exists.” He grins. “Why’re you all the way over there?”
“I don’t need you accidentally lighting my hair on fire.”
With his free hand, he lifts my ankle to his mouth and kisses the inside. “It’s nice to be taken care of for once.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I tease. “I suck at putting others first.”
“Are you crazy?” he asks, pulling a face. “I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. Why would you think that?”
“I don’t cook. I hire someone else to clean. The fridge is never stocked with your—” I pause before ‘favorite foods’ comes out. I’m airing Reggie’s grievances, things my therapist and I have supposedly worked through.
“That’s your ex talking.”
I shake my head. “It’s all true, though.” I look him in the eye to drive home the point that we’re better off apart. “I don’t do those things. I’m not a homemaker or a housewife. After I found out about the affair, Reggie and I had a few huge fights. It was one of the things he always brought up. I didn’t take care of him the way he needed.”
“Forcing yourself into your husband’s box is not how you take care of him.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on both sides of the tub. “You want to know how to take care of a man?”
I bite my bottom lip at the intensity in his eyes. Whatever he needs, he’s going to tell it to me straight. “Okay.”
“What you just gave me in there,” he points to the bedroom then gestures over the bath, bumping a little ash into the bubbles, “and now this? I feel like a king.”
I look over at the bed, and for a moment, I’m embarrassed. I’m not sure what I expected him to say, maybe something more profound or romantic. “Sex,” I say. “That’s all it takes with you men, isn’t it?”
“No,” he says. “I’m talking about something deeper. You didn’t withhold.”
I don’t really register whatever excuse he just spit out. Sex isn’t enough to sustain a couple. Eventually, it becomes a chore. Not every time, but enough. Of course that’s what Andrew needs from me. Not that I should be surprised—what else have I given him?
“Hey,” he says, calling me back to the moment. “Where are you?”
“I’m here,” I say, drawing my knees to my chest. “We should dry off. The water’s getting cold.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” he says, nabbing my ankle again. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Not nothing. Something. I can tell.”
I sigh. “Really, Andrew. I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t have to do all this with me.”
“Tell me what upset you.”
“For Christ’s sake, I’m not upset. But when you tell me sex is all a man needs to be happy, it doesn’t sit well. I’m still trying to work through my issues with Reggie, so I don’t really think it’s healthy to—”
“Whoa,” he says. “Back up. I didn’t say that’s what I need to be happy. I’m talking about how you trusted me in the bedroom. The other night, in the hotel, when you let me blindfold you? You took care of me by letting me take care of you.”
I shake my head and wave my palms. “Fine. I don’t know. You’re right—let’s drop it.”
“God damn, he did a number on you, didn’t he? What are these issues you mentioned?”
“None, nothing, not a one.” I try to pull my leg back, but he won’t release it.
“If it has to do with sex, I need to know,” he says, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard him so determined. He’s bordering on angry. “You let yourself be vulnerable with me—that’s a lot of responsibility on my shoulders.”
“Okay, it won’t happen again. Promise. Now, can we please—”
“Amelia.” He levels me with a look. “What is it? He made you feel bad about your body? Is that why you have issues with your diet?”
“It’s more . . . complicated than that. And you and I? We don’t do complicated, Andrew.”