Everyone Called Me His Girl, but He Said It Was Nothing novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: The Rain

We drove back to Fox Point without talking.

Hayes made soup on a two-burner stove in the corner of the apartment, plain chicken and rice, because he'd noticed I picked the pepper out of my diner eggs.

I sat on the counter and watched him.

"Don't let me burn it," he said.

"You're burning it."

"It's character."

"It's carbon."

I laughed, and he grinned at the pot.

We ate on the floor by the lamp with our backs against the bed.

The soup was bland and very good.

"Why did you stay?" he asked.

I put down my spoon.

"With Gavin."

"With her."

"For five years."

"You don't have to answer."

"I want to," I said.

"My mother died when I was nineteen."

"My father was a loud, wonderful man who didn't know how to be alone."

"When he died, the house went quiet."

"Then I met a family that had dinners and birthdays and a woman who said 'dear' to me like I belonged to her."

"I think I just wanted to be somebody's."

His face didn't change.

His hand moved to my ankle and stayed there.

"You're not somebody's," he said.

"You're yours."

"If you want a someone, I'm here."

"If you don't, I'm still here."

"That's a very large promise."

"It's not a promise," Hayes said.

"It's a fact about where I live."

I looked at him for a long moment.

Then I took the bowl out of his hands, set it aside, and climbed into his lap.

He caught my waist.

"Rhea."

"Last night I was angry," I said.

"I want to do this slowly."

His eyes darkened.

"How slowly?"

"Until you ask me to stop."

"I won't."

"Then it'll be a long night."

I kissed him.

This time he let me set the pace, and I took my time.

I kissed his mouth, his jaw, the place under his ear that made him exhale.

His hands slid under my shirt and stroked up my back.

"Lamp on," I said.

"I want to see you."

"It's on."

"Good."

I undid the buttons of the flannel shirt I was still wearing and pushed it off my shoulders.

I wore nothing under it.

He looked down at me, and I watched his throat move.

"Come here," he said.

He laid me back on the bed and stretched out beside me and kissed me until the room blurred.

His hand drifted down over my ribs and my belly and between my thighs, slow and warm.

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