Page 43 of Big Dick Energy

The hurt in my voice was pathetic, but I couldn't help it. There was something about this woman that stripped away all my usual armor, leaving me standing there like an idiot with my feelings on display.

Her eyes opened fully now, and she twisted in her seat to face me properly. The movement made her fitted pink top pull tight across her shoulders, and I forced myself to focus on her face.

“Strangely...” She studied me with those sharp brown eyes that seemed to see straight through me. “I do believe you.”

Relief hit me, and I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face.

“I don't know why, but I do.” She sounded almost annoyed.

“It's because deep down, you secretly like me.” I leaned back with what I hoped looked like casual confidence rather than desperate hope.

She snorted. “Must be really deep.”

The plane lurched into takeoff, engines roaring, and I waited until we leveled out at cruising altitude before playing my next card. “So, should we use this time to get to know each other a little more? Before we formally come out as a married couple to the world?”

Her eyes drifted shut again, head finding that perfect resting spot against the seat. “Sure.” The word was barely audible over the white noise of the cabin. “You first.”

My mind went blank. What did people ask on first dates? What questions mattered when you were already legally bound to someone you barely knew?

“Okay...” I stalled, buying time. “Let's see. Hmm...” Real smooth, Dodger. “How long was your longest relationship?”

“A year.”

Short answer. Interesting. “Why did it end?”

“Because I realized he was only dating me for my money.” Her voice stayed flat, matter-of-fact, but I heard the steel underneath. “I overheard him talking to a friend on the phone when he thought I was sleeping one night. He left for work the next morning, and I moved out and never spoke to him again.”

“Damn.” The word came out sharper than I intended. What kind of absolute jackass…

“Your turn.”

Right. I'd known this was coming the moment I'd asked. “Five years.”

Her eyes snapped open like I'd dumped ice water on her. “Wow.” She sat up straighter, fatigue temporarily forgotten. “What happened?”

I shrugged, surprised to find the old ache had dulled. Time, distance, or maybe just the fact that I was sitting next to someone who made my ex feel like ancient history. “We met when we were eighteen, and we were both hyper-focused on our career goals. Until she turned twenty-three and decided she wanted to settle down and get married.” I paused. “I didn't. So she left.”

“Did she know you didn't want to get married?”

“No.” I scrubbed a hand across my jaw. “Honestly, I didn't really know until it was slapping me in the face.”

“What about kids?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“You?” I turned the question back on her, genuinely curious now.

“I don't know.” She worried her bottom lip. “Maybe someday. Way, way down the road.”

“So what do we say when people ask about growing our family?”

“Right now we're focusing on us and our new marriage.” She delivered it perfectly, like she'd been rehearsing PR statements her whole life.

“That's good. We should write that down.”

“So what made you not believe in marriage?” She shifted again, tucking one leg under her. “Do you have some skeletons in the closet? A commitment phobia story?”

I had to laugh. “Nothing that dramatic. My mom and dad were married until he passed away when I was eight. She met my stepdad a year later; he's an amazing husband and father.” I met her eyes. “I just don't believe in marriage.”