Page 88 of Regal Feather
“So?” I frowned.
Since when did he just ask one-word questions and hoped for the best? That was more my style. Santos asked what he wantedto ask, or he said his piece, and left me in awe because there was no way in hell I could’ve done the same if the roles were reversed.
“You’ve had something on the tip of your tongue all day.”
“That’s not…” I squirmed. I might be shy, maybe, but I was a terrible liar. “Fine. It’s not… I blame Tony.”
“Tony?” Santos straightened at the mention of the name. I wondered if he was aware, or what he’d say if someone pointed it out. Someone who wasn’t me, obviously. I could already feel heat rising up to my cheeks. Thankfully, my genetics meant that I didn’t turn as red as a tomato, but it didn’t mean I enjoyed the sensation. “What about him? Did he say something about the other day? I haven’t texted him, but if…”
“No, well, kind of? Not exactly.”
I grimaced. Averting my gaze made it easier. Fuck, I wasn’t making any sense, and there was no way I wasn’t making it worse.
“Okay?”
Note to self: one word answers coming from Santos were especially bad.
“Okay, so just so we’re clear, I’m perfectly happy with how everything is.” I took a deep breath before I started talking so fast he couldn’t keep up. It didn’t happen often with him, but today wasn’t the day to test it. It was bad enough that not even the skirt and fishnets I’d dared to put on were getting rid of the itchiness under my skin. “But he said that if you felt more confident both when Sir Ismael was part of this, and when he was there the other day, maybe we needed to find a Dom to scene with? The two of us?”
“Oh.”
Fuck.
Oh had to be even worse than a one word answer. Did it even count as a one word?
“Yeah. I don’t know, it’s been bugging me.”
Santos frowned. “Do you want that?”
“No!” I fought not to make any big gesticulating. A family was passing by where we were sitting on the rental hammocks because I didn’t feel like dealing with setting a towel surrounded by people, and I couldn’t remember where my mother had stored ours. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it, and Doms are fun, but I don’t need it. It’s just…I don’t know if Tony has a point or not.”
“Can I…” He licked his lips. Maybe two word answers weren’t a good sign, either. I held my breath as he sat up on the hammock. “Can we wait until I have a couple months of therapy under my belt or something?”
“Yeah.” I bobbed my head up and down like one of those toys I’d never got the appeal of. “Totally.”
If it was about him and not me, anyway, it would make sense that he’d be the one to bring it up, when or if he was ready for it. If I was going to be second-guessing everything and imagining a million scenarios where we went through that talk and what would come out of it? That was my own issues, not his.
“Have you texted more with him, anyway?”
“With Tony?” I frowned. I ignored how my throat tightened because there was a large possibility Tony wasn’t who he was talking about.Yeah, the narrowed eyes confirmed it. “Uh, no. We texted when I ended things. That’s it.”
Santos hummed. “And you’re okay with that?”
“Yeah.”
I cringed. This was a conversation to be had home, where I could hide under the bed and it wouldn’t be obvious that I was trying to not be scrutinized lest I broke apart.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Well, I know that.”
Before I could try to defend myself—was I being attacked?—he dragged me closer to him until my nose was squished against his chest. Not particularly sexy, but his skin smelled of my soap he kept stealing, and I soaked in the comfort that brought.
“Are you not okay because breaking up with someone sucks, or because you want him back?”
“I hate you.” I didn’t mean it, obviously. The soft tilt of his chest as he fought a snort told me he knew I didn’t. “I think I had feelings for him, which is pathetic, probably, and I know I never even saw his face, but I liked him. I… He was so intense, you know? And I was gone for that intensity.”
“Yeah, I know.”
