Fool Me Forever (The Confidence Game 2)

“And you don’t like sponge cake, cream, and sprinkles?”

“I don’t generally feel this way after sex.”

“Ah. I can explain that.” He brought his arm around her, his palm spread over her hip. “It’s because it’s not after. We’re still having sex; we’ve just reached the plateau portion of the weekend’s entertainment. Technically speaking, we’ve reached the 3:00 a.m. badly need a snack portion.”

She lifted her face to watch his. “You’re hungry?”

“Starving. Chili cheese toast?”

“That’s not a question. That’s a destination.”

He laughed and they sat together, and then he swung his legs over the side of the bed, putting his back to her to stand.

“Oh my God.” Forget the fact she was seeing him top to toe naked for the first time, forget the absolutely bitable butt with those groan-making dimples. He had a tattoo. And it was enormous. Wings that opened across his shoulder blades, hoofs at his sacrum, and in between a rearing horse, muscular and fierce, with a flowing tail and flying mane.

And a single horn.

“Ah,” he said, and sat down. “I forgot about that.”

She traced one wing, the feathers intricate. He’d been under or over her and though she might’ve seen this when he went down on her, she’d not been able to keep her eyes open, and the room was thick with shadows because she’d wanted the lights low. “How could you forget about having this?”

“I spent a long time trying to forget about it before I made my peace with it, and everyone I’m close to has already seen it.”

“It’s incredible.” It was masculine and proud and majestic. Nothing My Little Pony about it. It was the unicorn myth all other unicorns were born from. But Halsey was the last person she’d expected to turn his back into a canvas despite all his talk with Mal.

“You regret it?”

“I’ll tell you over grilled cheese.”

He pulled on cutoff sweats, and she wore the bathrobe. She sat on a stool in the kitchen while he grated mozzarella and cheddar cheese and the grill heated.

“I was eighteen and unhappy. Cal was charismatic and a natural leader, Zeke was daring and adventurous and lucky, and I wasn’t any of those things. Both of them found it easy to make friends and pull women and learn to be Sherwood. I was quiet and studious and forgettable. I was worried I wouldn’t be an asset to the family. I wanted to be different.”

“What kind of different?”

“Not quiet and studious and forgettable. I questioned everything I’d come to learn about myself. From my sexuality to my side part.” He chopped up a green chili and added it to the cheese with salt and black pepper. “I was in a battle against my essential nature because I thought I should be something better, and yet I could barely stand making a decision about changing my haircut.”

He turned to look in the pantry, and she studied his unicorn—wildly incongruous with his c

areful nature, his love of order and precision. No rainbow in sight. “You got rid of the side part.”

He came back to the counter with a packet of minced ginger and a loaf of whole grain bread. “Cal tried to tell me I was fine the way I was. So did my parents, but we’re generations deep in the art of the con, as if I was going to believe anyone I was related to.”

The ginger went in the bowl and he stirred it about. “Crusts on or off?”

“On.”

Up came his eyes and he reached out and cupped her cheek. “You’re the perfect houseguest.”

“Because I like the crusts?”

“It’s all about the crusts,” he said, cutting half a dozen slices of bread in half and putting them under the grill. “I got this done on an impulse. It’s an alicorn, a cross between Pegasus, the winged horse, and a unicorn. Saw it in the window of a tattoo shop. Got it done that day. I thought if I could be spontaneous, willingly alter myself permanently, it was proof I could change. I wasn’t drunk, I wasn’t high, I was convinced doing something unlike me was proof I could be more like Cal and Zeke.”

“You hated it.”

“I defended it. I needed to love it to love the new me. But almost from the last of the scab flaking off, I knew it was a mistake. Haircuts and tattoos don’t change who you are. No disguise can.”

Oh, Halsey.