Lock You Down (Rivers Brothers 2)

This was the first time I had given my whole story to anyone, that I had laid myself bare, had let all the ugly seep out.

It was one of the most serious, somber moments of my life.

And this asshole had me throwing my head back and laughing.

When I looked at his face again, I saw a smile there. Not one of his condescending ones or those 'you're a fucking idiot' ones. Those seemed to be his signature looks.

This one was different.

Rare.

And while I inexplicably liked his other smiles, this one was just breathtaking.

Warm on a somewhat cold man.

Open on a typically closed person.

It seemed important that I was privy to it.

I felt special to share it, to be a recipient of it, to get to see a part of him he didn't openly share with most people.

"Uh oh," he said, brows furrowing, his hand raising, his fingertip rubbing between my brows. "That's a serious look. Did I insult you or some shit?"

Or some shit.

This man.

A laugh bubbled up and burst out at his words.

"No, you didn't insult me."

"Then what's with the look?"

"Has anyone ever told you that it is refreshing that you are so blunt?" I asked.

"Ah, well, usually people wish I would shut the fuck up with my opinions," he told me, not sounding the least bit upset about that fact.

"Well, I find it refreshing," I told him honestly. There was no guesswork. If he thought or felt it, he said it. Even if it was rude or inappropriate. Even if it would piss people off. You knew where you stood with him.

I'd been raised in a very fake social group. Everyone wanted to save face. Most people had an agenda. You could never know if someone was kind to you because they genuinely liked you, or if you fit into some plan they had for their future. It made it hard to know who to trust. Which was a big reason I had clung so hard to my siblings. At least I knew they loved me, wanted to be by me because of that connection. No ulterior motives. No dishonesty.

I had gotten to know some more genuine connections here in Navesink Bank with Krissy and Harvey and even the kids.

But I had yet to meet a man who was something more than a friend or coworker who had been so clear with me.

And because of that, because I knew he would give me the truth, I asked what I had been wondering when my face got serious.

"What is this, Nixon?"

"What's what? Your apartment? Kinda ugly, to be honest."

That got another laugh out of me, my head shaking. "No, not my apartment. This," I said, waving between our two bodies.

"Fuck if I know," he admitted, shrugging. "But it's something."

"Something," I mused, finding it oddly appropriate.

"Look," he said, sitting up straighter, making me bounce on his lap awkwardly, having to slap a hand into his chest to steady myself even though his hand was still casually anchored to my hip, holding me in place. "I'm not King, okay? I'm not fucking romantic and open and good at showing my feelings."

"I never said I wanted you to be like Kingston."

"And I'm not Atlas with his charm."

"I've known a lot of charming guys. They're overrated."

"My point is..." he said, rolling his eyes. If you had told me a month before that I would find eye rolls sexy, I would have laughed in your face. But Nixon's eye rolls? They were ridiculously sexy. "I suck at--"

"Finishing a sentence?" I provided, poking fun because I had a feeling he was struggling a bit, and I wanted to lighten the mood.

His hand slid from my hip to slap my ass. "Sometimes," he admitted. "I'm not a flowers and poetry kind of guy."

"Fresh flowers are a huge waste of money and resources. Unless you cut them from your own backyard."

"You get my point."

"I get your point," I agreed, nodding, a little distracted by his hand on my ass.

"I know I'm difficult."

"I like difficult. I turn jigsaw puzzles upside down when I do them, so I can't see the pictures," I told him.

"Fucking masochist," he informed me.

"I like a challenge."

"I'm not a problem to be solved, babe," he told me, and there was a hint of vulnerability there for the first time. "You take me as I am, or you fuck off. You're not going to change me."

My lips pressed together, trying to hold in a smile. "I don't think a man has ever tried to convince me to date him by telling me to fuck off before."

"I'm a unique individual," he supplied, lips twitching.

He didn't deny that he was asking me to date him. And that realization made my heart swell up in my chest. He wasn't the sort to give you false hope. If he didn't agree with something you said, he let you know.