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He Mistook Me for My Roommate, So I Called a Stranger Husband novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: Husband, Not Forgiven

We sat on the bench outside the Bingham building and drank our coffee without talking.

A man in a good coat walked past and glanced at Quincy twice.

Quincy looked straight ahead.

"I'm not forgiving you," I said.

"I didn't ask."

"I'm telling you before you hope."

"I'm not hoping." His voice was low. "I'm sitting."

I turned the cup in my hands.

"Your father said you walked out of dinner before the soup."

His head came around. "He told you that?"

"He told me you said I was worth more than everyone at the table."

Quincy shut his eyes.

"I was angry," he said. "I'd have said it about anyone who sat in that chair."

"That's a lie."

"Yes."

I put the cup down on the bench.

"Here's the thing," I said. "I'm still furious. I can be furious and still want you. Those are two separate facts."

He went very still.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Say it plainly."

"Take me home, Quincy. Not mine."

The drive was short and silent.

He did not touch me in the elevator. I stood against the far wall with my arms crossed and watched the floor numbers climb.

Inside his apartment, he shut the door and stayed against it.

"Tell me the rules," he said.

"I don't have any rules tonight."

"You always have rules."

"Then here's one." I walked up to him and put my hand flat on his chest. "You don't speak unless I ask you something. You don't apologize with your mouth. You do what I say."

His pulse knocked under my palm.

"Anything else?"

"I'm not calling you husband."

Something crossed his face, quick and raw. Then he nodded once.

"All right."

"Take off your jacket."

He did.

"The shirt."

He undid the buttons slowly, with his eyes on mine, and let it fall.

He had a long scar along his ribs I hadn't seen in the dark, white and old.

I put my mouth on it.

I heard him inhale.

I kissed my way up his stomach, over his chest, to the base of his throat, and bit him there.

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