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“Married to him,” Graham replies uncomfortably. “Can we not get into this?”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. I think we should both lay off the deep questions.”
He nods in agreement and we continue the game. Soon enough, it’s his turn to ask a question again.
“What’s your most embarrassing memory?”
I have to seriously think about that, but eventually, it hits me. “When I was in high school, I walked in on a teacher in the middle of giving a blowjob to another teacher.”
Graham laughs. “No way.”
“Seriously. They were in a small supply closet. She was on her knees, his pants were undone and they were just going at it. They didn’t even notice me until I made a noise of surprise. I stood there in shock for a couple more seconds—they were staring at me, I was staring at them. And then I ran away. It was mortifying.”
“Damn, that’s hilarious,” Graham says, still laughing. “What happened after?”
“Nothing. We all pretended it never happened. They never brought it up and neither did I. They went on to get married a year after I graduated. I even got an invite to the wedding.”
"It was probably their way of thanking you for not saying anything.”
“I just minded my business. Wasn’t hard.”
“Something similar happened to me too, actually. Except I was the one receiving the blowjob,” he says, grinning.
I slap his arm. “Did I really need to know that?”
“Maybe not.” He laughs. “But at least now you can think about it.”
I make a face of disgust. He chuckles, reaching up and brushing my hair from my face. It’s intimate and I find myself looking up, right into his eyes. My breath hitches and a shiver rolls through me. Graham must feel it, too, because he swallows. Then he steps away.
“It’s your turn, Sunshine.”
The game continues. We ask each other anything and everything, ranging from our most memorable vacations to our biggest achievements. Silly things like birthdays and favorite colors. I can’t remember the last time I talked to anyone this much.
He asks me what I do for work and I inform him that I mostly work from home, web designing. It’s nothing too serious. I’ve never had to work and considering my family’s situation, it was easier to just stay at home.
“Alright, your turn,” I say after sinking two of my balls again. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“That I’m going to lose this game,” he mutters.
I make a face, “Graham.”
He drinks some whiskey, expression closed off. “Do you really want to know?”
“Do you not want me to know?”
“I guess I could tell you. It’s pretty cliché, actually. My biggest fear is that I’ll never be good enough.”
“For who?”
“I don’t know, Isabella. My father, my family, our company. Hell, even myself.”
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself,” I say gently, placing a hand on his arm.
He offers me a small smile and we continue the game. We’re down to the last few balls. Two of them his and one of them mine. Graham has a smug look on his face because he knows he has a chance to win.
“My turn for a question, finally. Tell me about your last relationship.”
I tense. Seriously? He has this uncanny ability to figure out the things that hurt the most. And he doesn’t even realize it.
