Lost King by Piper Lennox (best self help books to read .TXT) 📕

fiberoptic starlight. There are scars, and callouses, and patches of uneven skin from twenty-three summers of burns and tans. This one hand alone contains so many stories I don’t yet know.

“Promise you won’t think less of me.” Tomorrow morning, when we wake up here together.

Next week, or next month, or whenever I finally get the courage to either carry out my plan like the heartless, cold bitch I wish I was...or leave him, heart scuffed but unbroken, like the girl I apparently can’t stop being.

“Promise. As long as you promise to start thinking more of yourself.” He laughs as he leans up and kisses my cheek, while I nod, stare ahead at the flickering screen, and think about how I just made a liar out of us both.

18

“Morning. Espresso?”

My head pounds as I peel my drool-covered cheek off the sofa cushion. The theater is dark, unchanged from last night.

“What time is it?” I take the tiny cup he offers and throw it back, then laugh when he produces another drink—this time, a latte—from behind his back, fitting it into my hands.

“Seven-thirty.” He’s dressed but unshowered. My heart does stupid little flips when he sinks into the couch beside me: he smells like a boy, generic body spray and crisp deodorant, but also like a man. Steeped sweat. The leather of the sofa, stamped into his skin.

The scent of me, the woman he pleasured for hours on end, painted all across him.

“Last night,” he starts, seeming to read my mind (or the very obvious squirm I give) before his voice trails with a tired and deliriously happy smile. I try not to mirror it, but fail.

I am happy. Hopelessly so.

“Question.” I sip my drink. Damn, this latte is the best coffee I’ve ever had. My breakfast blend is going to taste like storm runoff, after this. “You seriously never hooked up with anyone in here, before last night?”

“Never.”

“I find that downright impossible to believe.” My free arm, half-asleep from being pinned under my body all night, sweeps to the ceiling. The stars are still on, tirelessly flickering. “A home theater of any kind, let alone one like this, is a foolproof aphrodisiac.”

“That why I broke your once-per-session record so easily?” Theo puts one arm behind his head with an arrogant smile.

His other hand creeps onto my upper thigh, tracing a scratch mark I don’t remember happening. I’m not even sure which of us made it.

I scald the lust with another sip. Between this big, empty house and Theo’s unabashed dirty talk, it’d be way too easy to fuck the whole day away.

Which sounds really, really fun.

But I also know it’s way too dangerous, like the second hit of a new drug.

“Maybe I would have used the theater more,” he answers, finally, “if my friends weren’t in here every time I happened to have...opportunities.” He shrugs. “Just how it goes. When girls are here, my friends are here, too.”

“Oh.” Don’t you dare, Ruby. Don’t. “When was your last...opportunity?”

Amazing. Two whole seconds, I managed to restrain myself.

“Depends on what you mean by that.”

“You’re the one who used that word. You tell me what it means.”

“If we’re talking about the last time I had sex....” Theo pushes my hair behind my ear, resting his hand on the back of my neck. “It had been a while, before you.”

“A week?” I ask, shrugging. “A month?” Jesus, why do I care?

I don’t. I can’t.

“A Fourth of July party. Got wasted, don’t really remember it...think I had fun?”

“So what happened?”

“After the hookup? Nothing. The girl straight up said she wasn’t into me like that, and just wanted to fuck me to get it out of her system.”

“She did not.”

“Yep. Verbatim.” He jabs my side when I laugh. “But I was like, ‘Okay, appreciate the honesty, at least.’ Not like she wasted my time.”

Heat builds in my face. I burn my throat with the latte again. “Yeah. Silver lining.”

“It was. Until the next day, when she screwed my cousin.”

I wince. “Oof. I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s fine. Not like it broke my heart. Van didn’t know she’d been with me, and I didn’t say anything because I figured he liked her. But then I found out he said basically the same thing to her—that it was just a hookup for him. Casual.”

“Karma’s a bitch,” I say from behind my mug. Having something to do with my hands helps distract me from the whole kettle-versus-pot aspect of this conversation.

“No,” Theo laughs, “my cousin is just a bastard. Well—he used to be. He’s changed a lot since he got together with his girlfriend.” He pauses. “She’s been good for him.”

“Fourth of July,” I muse, after a beat. “That’s not too long. When you said it had been a ‘while,’ I figured—”

“Oh.” Theo blushes. It’s a deep cherry color that spreads all the way down his chest. “Sorry, I meant last Fourth of July.”

The little flare of jealousy in my stomach evaporates into something so chemically close to pure joy, it almost makes me sick. That, or I’m just in absolute shock. Hard to tell.

“Last summer?” I spit. “It’s been over a year since you’ve...?”

“No.” He straightens an invisible tie and checks a watch he’s not wearing. “It’s now been about...six hours.” Growing serious, he runs his tongue between his lips and looks at me. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” I say quickly, “just...unexpected.” Unfathomable, more like. “I mean, you’re—”

My sentence cuts itself off. No use wasting the brain cells trying to find words; one quick drip of my eyes down his body, and we both know