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“Have to is a strong phrase,” I returned.
“How old was Dom the first time you guys, ya know?” He made his hands into fists and did a thrusting motion with his hips.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh Lord. Why are you so obsessed with this topic?” This was possibly the thousandth time the question had come up. Everyone always wanted to know. Over many years it’d remained a topic of much debate.
“Because the only reason you’d be this close-lipped about it is because he was jailbait when it happened, you scandalous old lech, you.”
“That isn’t the only reason,” Caleb added quietly, which was about the only thing that saved Christian from getting decked just then.
We both looked at him.
“There are plenty of reasons she wouldn’t answer that, the least of which being she never wants to talk about anything that concerns her and Dom. Everyone has one touchy, taboo thing in their life, something too tender to speak about.”
That was fascinating indeed, not just because it was absolutely the truth, but also, it implied that Caleb himself had such a topic. A weakness.
“Who knew Caleb was a sensitive bloke?” Christian’s tone was sing-song, mocking, but in that charming way he had that somehow made the offensive less so.
“Me telling you doesn’t mean you can pass the information around,” I warned him.
“You mean I can’t sell it? I wouldn’t sell it cheap.”
I curled my lip at him in a less than mature way and ignored what he’d said.
“He was legal,” I finally answered the question of the century. Mostly just so he’d never ask it again. “Modern day legal, not old school legal.”
Christian looked crestfallen. He’d really been hoping for a more scandalous answer.
“What even made you think about it, by the way? With all of the things going on, how did that even come up?”
He ignored both questions. “So he was at least eighteen, is what you’re saying? Wait, no, legal means sixteen in certain states, right? Why aren’t you directly answering the question? Which state were you in? What year was it? You do know that legal refers to the actual laws, don’t you? Not just the ones in your head? So he was older than eighteen, is what you’re saying?”
Stubborn, curious bastard. “He was eighteen exactly.”
He made a loud whooping noise, like I’d made his day. “Still pretty scandalous. More than I was hoping for. And how old was he when you met him? You knew him for a long time first, right?”
“I’m done. No more questions.”
“Was he fifteen? Younger? Fourteen? I bet he fell for you the second he saw you and never got over it. Obviously. And you never put a spell on him?”
“Unless it was by accident, no.”
“Quit playing dumb, Christian. You already knew that.” Caleb’s voice was quiet, and I thought, highly annoyed.
“It’s someone else’s turn to get tortured here,” I said sourly. The conversation brought up old memories, old regrets.
“Fair enough. You do the honors, then.”
I thought about it for a while. “Caleb,” I said. “Truth or dare.”
“Truth,” he said. Christian looked as surprised as I felt. This was apparently our lucky day.
“Are there more of you?”
He didn’t like the question, it was clear. “Not anymore,” he finally answered.
“Care to elaborate?”
“I don’t.”
