Page 19 of Vicious Secrets
“It’s fine,” he says as he steps around me.
I sigh. “Is this why you’ve barely slept in bed? It’s too uncomfortable?”
Siro stops and looks over his shoulder. He turns slowly, his eyes scanning my face. Can he tell I’m giving him an out?
He grinds his jaw. “Yes.”
“I’ll help you. Get in bed.” I jog into the bathroom and grab several towels.
Siro hasn’t moved from his spot. I bypass him on my way back to the bed and sit on my side of the mattress as I roll the towels. He watches with his lips pressed into a thin line. As he walks the short distance to his side of the bed, he doesn’t take his eyes off me. A chill squeezes me tight, making me feel like I’m withering. He pulls back the covers and climbs in.
“Roll on to your good side, facing away from me.”
“No. I want to face you.” He rolls toward me.
I bite the insides of my cheeks to hold in a huff. I climb out of bed and position the towels against Siro as best I can. It’s not ideal, but it’ll help him.
“Relax and lean on the towels.” I’d usually guide a patient into position, but the idea of touching Siro spikes terror in my veins.
As he complies, I kill the lights and crawl back into bed.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the darkness.
Siro snorts, then groans and curses under his breath. “Don’t be. I’m a fool.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I read too much into losing my virginity.”
My abs contract like he sucker punched me. I sit up on my elbows and gasp. “What?”
Silence stretches between us. My lips flap like a fish out of water as I wrap my brain around what he just said.
“Siro, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have done anything differently?”
“Everything!” I exclaim and throw my hands up. “I thought you were touch starved from not getting laid twice a day!”
“Twice a day!?” he says in a tone that’s a mix of shock and frustration.
I wave my hand about as if he can see it. “That’s the stereotype of a made man. You’re all sluts.”
“First off, they prefer himbo. Second, which of my guys are fucking twice a day? ‘Cause it sounds like they’re fucking while on the clock.”
“Siro,” I say with a sigh and slump down. “Are you being fastidious?”
“Robyn, it’s time theft.”
I scoff. “You care about theft?”
“Yes!”
“If I ever find names and tell you, are you going to fire them or fireatthem?”
“There’s a difference?” he mocks.
“Goodnight, Siro,” I mumble and roll away from him.
