Page 34 of Head Under Water

He shakes his head with a cocky laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I really, really wouldn’t.”

His jaw tics, eyes dancing over my face. They drag down my throat, lingering on the collar of my shirt, then return to meet mine. “Are you going to hook up with him, then? Really?”

“Why are you so obsessed with this? I am not talking about sex with you, Will.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He tosses the remote on the bed and leans forward, elbows on his knees. He’s so close to me now, I can see the tiny scar above his left eyebrow, the one he got from a sparkler when we were eight. “I wasn’t talking about sex with me. You’re not ready for that.” He winks.

I tap my finger to my forehead, chest, then each shoulder. “And may I never be.”

He chuckles, the deep sound vibrating across the space between us. “Don’t be so sure. I don’t hear many complaints.”

“Only because you’re too busy closing the door on their way out.”

“Always a comeback.” He clicks his tongue. “I’m a gentleman, you know? Truly. I can give you references.”

I throw my head back with a laugh. “I’ll pass.”

His next words come sharp, almost defiant. “You deserve someone who knows you, Opal. Someone who can see through your bullshit and hear the things you’ll never say out loud. Because you damn sure won’t tell them what you need. You’ll be too worried about keeping him happy to ever put it out there.”

Whatever I expected him to say, it wasn’t that. My next joke dies on my tongue.

“You don’t know me, Will.”

“Better than Money Bags.” He slides forward off his bed and comes to sit next to me, crowding my space. “Someone who can tell what you like without you ever saying a word?”

His hand lifts, like he’s going to brush it across my cheek, but he stops midair. “Someone who knows just what buttons to push?”

I feel his phantom touch low in my stomach.

He lets his hand fall, a devastating smirk spreading on his lips. “Someone like that could blow your mind.”

The room falls silent again.

The smile on his lips evaporates.

I swallow, my throat dry. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He watches me like he’s waiting to see if I’ll flinch. Or ask him to move. It’s what he wants, but I won’t give it to him.

His gaze passes over me thoughtfully as I eat another fry, a million silent calculations flashing in his eyes. Heat crawls up my neck under the weight of it.

Finally, he says, “How many people have you hooked up with, anyway?”

My pulse stumbles. “Like I would ever tell you that.”

“I’ll tell you mine.”

“Can you count that high?”

He just presses his lips together, eyes narrowing. “Twelve. It’s not even that many. Two of those were girls I was dating at the time.”

“I didn’t ask, Will.”

“Can I guess?” He pushes up from the bed abruptly and crosses the room, only to return just as fast. I’ve barely breathed. The mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge of my bed again facing me, with his back toward the TV. His thigh brushes my knee.

Neither of us moves.