“What guy?” he whispered.
Uh-oh.
He was referring to Carl, probably because I used Carl as an excuse to keep our relationship casual. And since he wished to discuss us going out of the casual, he would naturally bring up Carl.
Shit.
“I, uh, I’m still working through that,” I replied lamely.
“A second ago, you didn’t even remember he existed,” Ren fired back.
Damn it!
I threw out an arm and went on the defense. “I’m kind of not on my game, what with the late night grilling.”
“I had my mouth between your legs, you’d be focused,” he returned, and there it was.
I’d had many briefings about Asshole Speak, and that was proof Ren could equal even Luke.
“That’s not cool,” I whispered.
“But it’s true.”
It was true, damn it all to hell, so I decided not to reply.
“Was there even a guy?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered snippily. “His name is Carl and he’s currently undertaking FBI training in Virginia and likely won’t be stationed in Denver when they’re done with him. So, since I don’t intend to live anywhere but Denver, I had to make the decision to be done with him.”
Some of his anger slid out of the room and his voice was less terse (though not gentle by a long shot) when he pointed out, “Do you know that that’s the most personal thing you’ve shared with me since beer at Brother’s?”
“Fuck buddies don’t share their hopes and dreams, Zano. They f**k,” I educated him.
It was his turn to clamp his mouth shut.
He did it better than me, and this was because a muscle jumped in his jaw which I found, unfortunately at that moment, all kinds of hot.
Crap.
I let him have his moment and didn’t fill the silence.
He got over his moment and his voice was even less terse (but still not gentle) when he told me, “I’m pissed, and I don’t know what’s goin’ on with you out there, which means I’m pissed because I’m worried. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I like what we got and I want more.”
Oh God.
He wanted more.
And he was worried about me.
Fuck.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he quickly closed the short distance between us, wrapped a hand around the side of my neck and dipped his face close so I closed my mouth.
“You’re pissed too,” he told me something I knew, but this time his voice was not terse at all. It was gentle and sweet. “So don’t answer now. Not when we’re both pissed. Give it some time and think about it. And think about sharin’ with me whatever you’re up to. You got some mission with one of your posse, I might be able to help. It’s somethin’ you and Tucker gotta keep close to your vests, I get it. But think about sharing, honey. If I can help, I will.”
Okay, how did this happen? How was it that one minute we were having not very nice words and the next minute he was not only gentle and sweet, but also nice.
When someone was being nice, you couldn’t be not nice back. It was a rule.