Black Jack (Advantage Play #5) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,24

ignition before placing my hand on the passenger side headrest. Twisting in my seat, I look behind me and back out of the parking spot, then shove the car into drive and head back to our apartment.

But I can feel her watching me. And no matter how hard she tries to hide it, I can feel her anxiety too. She wants to know the truth even though she’d never ask a second time. If she did, it would reveal her true desires, and she keeps those close to her chest.

Giving her the side-eye, I answer, “You’re gorgeous, Bianca. But I get the strong vibe that you hate me and would rather be anywhere than in my presence. So, yeah. Was I jealous that you basked in his attention but can’t seem to stand mine? Definitely. Does it stroke my ego that you noticed the waitress noticing me even though you don’t bother to show me yourself? Yeah. But would I ever do anything with her?” Her breath catches, but she keeps her gaze glued to the windshield like this conversation is only happening to pass the time and doesn’t hold any weight to it. But I can read her better than she assumes. And she’s just as invested in this discussion as I am.

Squeezing the steering wheel a little tighter, I continue. “I think that’s a question we both need to ask.”

“What do you mean?” she whispers, finally giving in.

“We’re getting married. But what do you want from this marriage?”

She licks her lips before folding her arms across her chest. “We’ve had this conversation before.”

“And yet you still haven’t answered me,” I reply.

“That’s because I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to tell me what you’re thinking, Bianca. What your expectations are. We’re in this together, remember?”

“No one ever cares about my expectations or wants to hear my thoughts on any matter,” she clarifies under her breath. I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or reminding herself that others don’t respect her opinion. Regardless, it kills me.

“I do,” I mutter, glancing toward her.

“If they align with yours.”

“Try me.”

“Fine.” She huffs. “I want you to keep your dick in your pants.”

“And will you keep other dicks out of yours?” I counter. She’s seconds from exploding in fury, but I refuse to walk on eggshells around her. Not if she thinks I’m okay with a double standard.

“Excuse me?” she screeches, shifting in her seat until she’s fully facing me in an attempt to deliver her wrath head-on.

I keep my tone calm and collected as my fingers tap against the steering wheel to a tune none of us can hear. Hopefully, she doesn’t see it for what it really is: a nervous tic.

“I want to know if you’re planning on cheating on me, Bianca.”

“It’s hardly cheating if we’re not committed in the first place.”

“Exactly. Which is why I want to know your thoughts on the matter. Are you planning on being committed to me? Or have you already written me off as a duty and nothing else?”

Her lips are pulled flat, and she doesn’t bother to answer.

“Would you like to know what I want?” I rasp. My voice is softer than before.

Again, she doesn’t say a word, but I can feel her curiosity as if it’s my own.

I glance over at her. Again.

Man, she’s beautiful.

“I want to try to make this work, Bianca. Not as an obligation but out of respect for both of us. We owe it to ourselves to try, and you deserve more than to be treated as a pawn by your brother. Even if he only set this up because he wants to keep you safe,” I clarify.

“But…why?” she asks. It’s like the thought of her being treated as something other than a joint that gets passed around in high school is more than she can grasp.

“Because you’re a person––not a pawn, which we’ve already established––and you deserve to be happy,” I explain, hiding my disgust that I even have to spell it out for her. “Look, I know I wasn’t the person you would’ve chosen to marry if you had a choice. But I promise to respect you––and our marriage––which means I won’t touch another woman unless you break the promise by touching another man. Deal?”

She gives me a jerky nod, then offers her manicured hand for me to take. As I shake it, she agrees. “Deal.”

“Good.”

“Does that mean you expect us to touch, since you won’t be getting it elsewhere?” she asks.