Page 112 of Johnny

“I think that’s the point. What point? There is no point.”

She lifts herself up off my chest. Her hands come up to prop up her chin. Our eyes meet. “Are you

always like this?”

I nod.

“I think you’re lying. What’s going on?”

“You don’t know.”

“That’s why I asked.”

“No, I mean… you don’t know me.”

She makes one of those pouty frowns girls make when they have to accept something as truth, but

would prefer not to. “I’m not pretending that I do. I just… I’ve heard things about you.”

“Like what?” I ask. Because I recall her telling me yesterday that she knew our family name, but

not much more.

“You know. Ruthless. Mean. Insane.”

“And?”

“And… I think I’ve seen a few other sides to you today.”

“Examples?”

She smiles. Blinks at me. “This self-doubt, for one. Wasn’t expecting it, to be honest.”

“Did you have expectations?”

“Doesn’t everyone? Didn’t you have expectations about me when you first took me to your boat?”

“I suppose.” Then I reach for one of her new tear-drop earrings and finger it for a moment.

Grinning at her. Well, more of a lopsided frown. “But I’ve had to reevaluate a few times already and

it’s only been a little over twenty-four hours.”

“Hmm,” she hums. “Well, that’s how I feel about you. A banker? Are you kidding me? I mean,

maybe I knew that before all this happened, but if I did, never really thought about it. I get that you

have to be ruthless, mean, and insane. But I also think there’s more to you than that. This was a pretty

unique, thoughtful one-night stand if you ask me.”

“Please,” I say, letting go of her earring and turning my head away. “Do not try and tell me you’ve

never had ocean sex before. You were born on an island.”

“Still,” she says, sidestepping the trap I just threw down. “It was kind of a masterpiece as far as

booty calls go.”