Page 128 of The Situation

I start to climb off him, but he holds me down.

“She was so fucking sexy. I’m still obsessed with her tits.”

“I fucking hate you.”

He kisses me despite me trying to pull away. “Her name was Kelly.”

I pull back and smack his chest. He finds this way too entertaining for how close he just came to death.

“What are our living arrangements going to be?” he asks.

“Pull that stunt again, and yours will be in a casket.”

“Are we living apart? Together? Here? At your place? In a new place?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I bite my lip. “My lease isn’t up. So let’s stay separate until then, and we can reassess.”

“I’m adding this point in?—”

“No!You can’t lengthen the list of talking points,” I say. “The only thing that is allowed to lengthen is right here.”

Before he can react, I grind against him. I only get one whole movement in before he halts me.

“You are my girl,” he says, peering into my eyes. “We’re in a relationship. We might be having a baby. There’s another thing we need to talk about in a second.”

I lift a brow.

“But the point is, money is not an issue for you anymore,” he says.

“No.” I shake my head. “We can’t talk money like this.”

“Why?”

“It’s weird. I’m not here for your money.”

“I didn’t say you were.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “But having money is a part of my life. I can’t ignore it. I must take precautions because of it. I don’t walk around most places with a security detail, but I do have to be smart. You’re going to have to be smart, too.”

I shrug. “Fuck it. I’ll just stay here as your sex slave. No security needed.”

He laughs. “Well, that makes my next point obsolete.”

“Good.”

“I’m kidding.” He reaches behind me onto the coffee table and pulls out a manila envelope. “This is for you.”

My brows crinkle.

“Take it. Open it.”

“Love mail day,” I say, sarcasm thick in my voice. “Stop bouncing your legs. I’m going to slice my finger and get a paper cut.”

“Just open the fucking thing.”

My heartbeat quickens from his reaction. I’m not sure what’s in this envelope, but it makes him nervous.

The possibilities are endless and terrifying, so I don’t speculate.

“I started this a couple of weeks ago,” he says. “This came through last night.”

I pull out a packet of papers.

“Read the top one.”

My chest heaves as I read the first few lines.