There’s no way he just asked me that.
Except…he’s Kaiden.
“I’m not answering that.”
He let’s go of my chin. “That’s a yes, then.”
“What? No, I—”
He winks. Winks. “We all do it. The fact that you’re too embarrassed to say you get yourself off just confirms it.”
My neck tingles.
Not wanting to egg him on, I swing my legs over and plant my feet on the floor. “I should probably see if Grandma needs help with anything. So—”
He tugs me back down onto the couch when I’m halfway to standing, causing me to flinch. I draw my arm back and rub it, causing him to study me. “It’s your turn.”
My…?
“You’re not a girly girl, so it’s safe to say pink isn’t your favorite color. My best guess is that yellow is since you wear it most often. I know you’re obsessed with that happy-go-lucky song about sunshine and shit, so you’re probably into indie rock and country too. You’re a nerd, so I know you spend most of your time in your bedroom doing homework and reading. When you’re not touching yourself, of course.”
I grab a pillow and smack him in the chest with it. “Would you stop? I do not touch myself!”
Grandma walks in at the exact moment, her lips turning upward. “Interesting conversation to walk into. Emmy, your mother just called. She’s going to meet us at Le Sal’s restaurant in half an hour.”
Trying to pretend Grandma didn’t just hear me tell Kaiden about what I do or don’t do in the confines of my bedroom, I nod. “That sounds like fun. I’ve been craving their chocolate mousse for a while.”
She grabs her car keys. “I’ll warm up the car. If you want to change, I think we’ll leave in about fifteen minutes. We need to beat traffic.”
I nod and watch her button her coat before leaving Kaiden and me alone again. He’s still clutching the pillow I hit him with, so I grab another one and smack him again. “You’re a jackass.”
He just smiles.
I sigh and throw the pillow back onto the couch beside me. “For the record, I love most music. I grew up on classic rock though. It’s a preference of m
ine.”
His eyes scan over my face. “I can probably guess a lot more about you.”
Please don’t, I silently groan.
I know asking him not to will only make him want to torture me more.
“You’ve never been kissed.”
My eyes bulge.
He scoots closer. “You’ve never slept with anyone before.”
His knee brushes my leg.
“You haven’t lived yet, Em.”
Pressing my lips together, I lean back to put a little distance between us. “And that stuff is supposed to help me live?”
His lips quirk. “They’re a start.”
“Technically,” I point out, “I did sleep with you, so that scratches one of those items off the list.”