Looking Inside

“Pretty much, yeah,” he mused, his fingertips stroking her scalp. “I have to say, though . . . this thing with you is unusual.”

She did a double take. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. “If my former relationships could be described as fiery at first, you’re more like an explosion of epic proportions. I can’t believe that fan dance you did,” he mused. He focused on her face. “It was incredible.”

She flushed. “Thanks.”

“You’re so in the moment at times. So present. Really honest.”

She started, guilt sweeping through her. “I am?”

“Yeah. You’re upfront about what you want”—his mouth twisted—“even while you’re manipulating the hell out of me to get it. You’re a little tease, and you totally lose yourself while you’re pushing all my buttons . . . but at least you put it all out there.”

She ducked her head, suddenly afraid he’d see straight through the façade she donned for him with those laser beam eyes of his. He tugged gently on a tendril of her hair, and she was forced to meet his stare.

“Do you date a lot?”

“Are you asking me if I do stripteases a lot?” she asked him, holding his stare, determined not to flinch.

His gaze narrowed. “I’ve told you about my bad luck with women. I was just wondering about your history with men. Is that too intrusive for me to ask?”

“There’ve been some men in my life.” She swallowed thickly. “Not a lot.”

He touched her cheek. She went very still, her skin prickling with awareness beneath his fingertips. “You looked like sex personified doing that dance. You must have . . .” A frown creased his brow. “Practiced it a lot,” he said after a pause, his mouth going hard.

Her breath caught. She didn’t know what to say. He alluded to the fact that she must have done that dance to seduce other men on many prior occasions. If she was the sexual libertine she was pretending to be, and the exhibitionist to boot, she should lay claim to a great deal of practice. Instead, she found herself wanting to tell him it’d been her first time, and he’d been her entire inspiration.

But suddenly he gave a crooked smile. “Never mind. You’re right. I don’t want to know how many times you’ve done that dance. It’s nicer to pretend it was just for me. Besides, I have no right to grill you about your past. Not when I’ve admitted to being ashamed of my track record.”

“Trey—”

He shook his head abruptly, as if to both silence her and clear his thoughts. He shut his eyes. She studied his sober expression. She really liked talking to him. He was interesting, genuine . . . complex. She wanted to know more about him.

The only problem was, it felt like she was navigating a minefield, given the narrow parameters they’d put on their dalliance.

Given her dishonesty in portraying who she really was.

“This issue you’re struggling with when it comes to women is really bothering you, isn’t it?” she asked him cautiously. He didn’t reply for a few a seconds. Finally he opened his eyes.

“It just seems like one minute, I’m having fun with a woman, enjoying her company whenever we’re able to get together, and then . . .”

“She suddenly wants more, and you don’t?”

“More than that. As time goes on, I feel like the mask runs thin, and I don’t like what I see underneath. It gets to the point where a lot of what she says, no matter how nice or seemingly complimentary to me, starts to feel like I’m being tactically maneuvered.”

“And you got sick of that,” she said, full understanding settling. “That’s why you were going cold turkey on sex and relationships.”

“It’s my fault,” he said gruffly after a pause. “Or at least partially. That’s what I’m starting to think. It’s only natural that a woman starts to expect more over time. And more often than not, I just don’t want to give it.”

“Is it? Natural, I mean? For a woman to want more?”

“Isn’t it?”

“You make it sound like it’s some kind of behavior gene linked to the X chromosome,” she said, lying on her back and staring blankly up at the ceiling. “I don’t think that’s true, necessarily.”

“It’s not true for you, that you’ll inevitably want more from a guy the longer the relationship continues?”

“No. It’s not inevitable, anyway,” she insisted. It wasn’t a lie. She’d dated guys whom she’d wanted more with as time went on, but the opposite had occurred as well. With Trey, wanting more might be an inevitability, but that’s not what he’d asked her.