“It’s not a costume,” he answered. “And no, I didn’t. My grandfather did. He insisted on a cape to follow along with the Electro-Man image, it doesn’t help us fly any better.”
“Did you burn your suit with your secret laser eyes at my house by the way?”
His smile confirmed it.
“Why didn’t you want me to call you Alex at first?”
“I had wanted to keep some distance between us. The only people who don’t call me Alexander are my family.” He didn’t lose his smile. “You get it.”
I did. He hadn’t wanted us to become friends. I hadn’t either. Not at the beginning. I tugged the covers up higher over my shoulder. “Why were you in a bad mood when you showed up at the bar?” I asked.
There was no hesitation. “I got home, and I didn’t know where you were.”
That was… not what I expected him to say. “You make no sense, you know that?”
“That’s why I was gone for a month.”
I didn’t understand him. I didn’t understand him at all. I had to clear my throat and pick my fights: this wasn’t one of them. “If you say so. All right. How many people have you dated?”
“Next.”
“No, this is my time. You told me you owed me. Tell me. I’m not going to judge you.” I would, but he’d figure that out later, if he didn’t already realize I was full of shit.
He grunted.
I was pretty sure he knew damn well how full of shit I was.
Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t about to give up. Maybe he would leave tomorrow regardless of what he’d promised. Maybe we wouldn’t get a chance to talk like this again if he was in and out of the house, even though that wasn’t how the Trinity worked.
But if there was one thing I’d learned in my life, you never fucking knew shit.
And this was my shot. “Alex, in this moment, you’re in my circle of trust. I’m not going to make fun of you or call you anything. You’re a gorgeous, pretty much perfect man. Physically, calm down, cowboy, your attitude could still use an adjustment. But all jokes aside, how many women have you been with?”
He’d lifted his gaze to the ceiling when I started talking, and it was still there when I was done.
Fine. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to tell me.”
He made a growling noise in his throat before saying, pretty much spitting both syllables out like they tasted bad in his mouth, “Zero.”
“Zero?”
He side-eyed me. “I told you we only marry once.”
No.
No.
Was that possible?
“You”—I pointed at him, scrunching my face up—“haven’t been with anybody ever or anybody recently?” I asked slowly, not sure I was going to believe either.
He turned to look at me, not fucking amused at all. I’d swear he might have even been glaring at me too. “Never.”
I swept my gaze from his face down to the girth of his strong neck, to the shoulders stretching his T-shirt, across his pectorals and flat stomach, to those long legs and the black socks covering his feet.
This GQ motherfucker was trying to tell me he’d never been with anyone?
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I focused on the muscles in his arms, in the general direction of a midsection that I knew was a masterpiece of an abdomen, and said in the dumbest, most distracted voice of all time, “I’m just…” I was fucking speechless. He’d said zero. “For a second, I was wondering how someone that looks the way you look could never have…” I waved my hand at him, still not comprehending how the hell that number was possible.
“Are you complimenting me again already?”
I scoffed. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Why is that hard for you to believe? Why haven’t you been with anyone?”
Of course he’d ask. “Why do you think?”
“Because your grandma probably told you that you needed to wait until you were married, and because you didn’t want to disappoint her, you decided to wait. Then once she was gone, you felt like a fraud lying to people and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I cut him off. He’d come at me like a fucking hurricane with that. Was it all true? Yes. Did I want to hear him figuring me out like that? No.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re annoying is what you are,” I muttered.
His smirk was just as nice as a smile. Maybe better.
His expression eased into another solemn one. “You’re not the only one who’s had to hide their entire life, Gracie.”
Oh, shit. He totally had a point.
“I wasn’t homeschooled, but I went to a private school. I’ve had to lie to every person I’ve ever met that I’m not related to. I couldn’t let myself get too close to anyone, because the more I interacted with them, the more possibilities I had of fucking up and doing something that would give me away.”
This sounded strangely familiar.
“I’m lucky I have a big family; otherwise, I wouldn’t have any friends.” He didn’t look troubled at all, just more matter of fact. “I’ve had to stay under the radar my whole life. I couldn’t get too good of grades; I couldn’t do anything out of the ordinary. We’ve all waited until we have found our partners to be with someone, because we can’t risk screwing up. We can’t put our families or our identities at risk if we hope to have any semblance of a normal life.”
This intense sensation of kinship rose up between us, strong and powerful. I felt my eyes widening at everything he was telling me because it was hitting way too close to home.
“I had no idea.”
Apparently, he had because he gave me this face that said he thought I was dumb for not coming up with it before.
Maybe I was.
How the hell had I not realized just how similar our lives had been? The only difference was that he’d had more people in his and more duties. My only responsibility had basically been to keep going. To be quiet.
The weight of a family, of a whole life, rested on those shoulders, and he was a hell of a lot stronger than I was, that was for sure.
“Why the hell are you tearing up?”
I didn’t bother wiping at my eyes. I just shrugged. “Because we’re so different, but at the same time, we’re almost the same person.”
Alex blinked. “Are we?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
I shrugged. “We’re both a little mean.”
That got a corner of his mouth to lift. “You’re mean. I’m blunt,” Alex corrected.
“Honesty can be mean sometimes. That’s what white lies are for.”
“White lies are bullshit.”
I groaned. “Two. We both like to bicker.”
“Picking on each other isn’t bickering. We’re having fun.”
Picking on each other, was it? I had to keep from smiling. “We’ve both had to live with a thousand lies on our souls.”
He didn’t say anything then.
“And we’re both members of the V-club.”
Oooooh, that got me a side glare.
“I’m not making fun of you. I’d be making fun of myself. But it’s the truth.” I thought of something. “How many women have you kissed?”