Burnout - Coralee June Page 0,24

I wasn’t so sure.

“You and these truths. Haven’t you had enough?” she asked in a coy voice I could practically feel in my chest.

“No. Tell me,” I demanded, hoping she couldn’t hear the tension in my voice or how tempted I was to plead for more. I was worse than Lance’s ex-girlfriend, the meth addict that stole thousands from him.

“How about this,” she began while tracing the rim of her coffee cup with her finger. “You tell me one truth of yours, and I’ll tell you one of mine.” My first reaction was to tell her to fuck off, but I stopped myself before I could let the knee-jerk response come tumbling out of my mouth.

“Any truth?”

“Any. But I’d really like to know more about your friendship with my brother. You’re so...protective. That has to come from somewhere. Either you have a massive crush on your best friend, or you have history. Which is it?”

Of all the things she could have asked, she wanted to know about Lance. Another brick in the wall I’d built up around her turned to dust.

“Lance and I grew up in a wealthy neighborhood. We never wanted for anything. Never really had to try hard to succeed. We had life handed to us on a silver platter—literally. But it wasn’t all easy,” I offered with a shrug.

“Why not?”

“Because when you have the world, everyone wants to take it from you,” I replied before cracking my knuckles. “Your turn.”

She sat there for a moment, marinating in my honesty. Based on the sour expression on her face, she didn’t like what I had to tell. That was a first. Usually, when everyone heard that we came from money, it made them want to latch on for dear life. That, coupled with my father’s career, usually ended with girls that had diamond rings in their eyes.

I expected her to share about her shitty childhood, compare and contrast what was different about my privilege and her suffering, but she didn’t. “I once wanted to be a scientist when I grew up.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that discovered shit. Maybe work for a pharmaceutical company. After Mama’s treatments, I learned real quick that they make good money. I could cure cancer or something,” she said offhandedly with a wave of her hand. That didn’t sound very convincing.

“And now? What do you want to do now?”

“Tell me another truth, and I’ll answer that.”

Oh, so she was bargaining now? I felt my chest heat at the challenge. “My dad played professional football.”

“Never really liked the sport. Now tell me something about you, something that isn’t laced with your ego or other people’s achievements.”

“You think I have an ego?” I asked while leaning forward. She matched my stance, propping her tits up on the table as she stared at me for a long while. I had to force myself not to stare down her shirt. I took a sip of my coffee while she mulled over her response.

She then rasped, “I think your ego’s so big it drags on the floor when you walk. Must be hard carrying around all that self-importance on your back.” I spit my coffee out into my palm in shock, looking like a damn idiot in the process. What the fuck had she said? My dick was proudly growing hard at the reference to my ego, but said ego was bruised as hell by what she thought of me.

“I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. Your turn,” I sputtered, trying to gain control of the conversation.

“I’ve always wanted to get the fuck out of Texas.”

“That’s not a job,” I quipped.

“That’s not a legit truth. Tell me something juicy, and I’ll spill all my deepest, darkest secrets, Mr. Harris,” she replied in a sultry tone, or at least it sounded sultry and hot to me. My dick stirred in my pants, and I had to resist the urge to tell him to calm the fuck down. Maybe this was just her sleepy voice. Maybe she didn’t feel the same pull as I did.

“Fine,” I gritted. “Lance saved my life in ninth grade. One of Dad’s super fans broke into our house with a gun. Lance was spending the night and tackled the bitch before she could shoot my mom and me.” Flashbacks. Gunshots. Screams. Terror. It all hit me like a punch to the gut. I squeezed my eyes shut, still remembering the sound of her arm cracking when Lance landed on her. What I didn’t mention was that Dad had