“I don’t like this,” he said.
I bounced victoriously in his lap. “But you know I’m right. This could finally be our blank slate, big guy.”
“Blank slates are for new beginnings.”
“Ugh. Fine. This could be our ‘the end.’”
“If I agree,” he said, arresting my movements with his hands, “you have twenty minutes and then you’re shutting up and I’m taking your clothes off.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I thought we were done with each other.”
“Do you have something better to do this afternoon?”
I grinned. “Nope.”
“Twenty minutes,” he repeated.
I scrambled off his lap and planted myself against the arm of the couch, hugging a pillow to my chest. “I’ll go first. What kind of beard maintenance do you do? Or is it just rich guy magic where you wake up, look in the mirror, and command your facial hair to do what you want?”
His expression was priceless. “You can ask me anything and you want to know how I maintain my beard?”
I shrugged. “I’m warming you up before we get to the interesting stuff.”
“I already regret this.”
“Did you ever have feelings for Knox or Nash?”
Lucian’s question caught me by surprise. We’d mostly lobbed softballs back and forth, participating in a delicate dance around the minefields of our past.
“Uh, yeah,” I said emphatically.
“When?” he demanded, his grip on my feet in his lap tightening.
“Probably right around the time I hit fourteen and they suddenly got hot.”
“Do Naomi and Lina know you lust after their men?”
“Yep. They’re used to it. Anyone who enjoys looking at attractive men lusts after those two.” I laughed when he looked downright grumpy. “Oh, come on. You’re not left out of that equation. Women walk into glass doors trying to get a better look at you.”
He grunted.
“My turn. Why won’t you let me blow you?”
His laugh startled me.
“Do you find oral sex funny?” I demanded.
“On the contrary, I take it very seriously.”
My lady parts knew this intimately. I nudged him with my foot. “Elaborate, Lucifer.”
“I like being in control,” he said as if that answered everything.
“You can be in control during a blow job.”
His gaze slid to my mouth. “Not enough.”
“Clearly, you haven’t experienced the right kind of oral sex. I’ll be happy to demonstrate in…” I checked the clock on the mantel. “Seven minutes.”
“Pass.”
“Party pooper. Since that was a lame answer, I get another question. Did you tattoo over all your scars?”
Lucian stared at me for a long beat. I wondered if I’d pushed too far.
“Yes,” he said finally.
“Why?”
“Because I’d rather have marks on my body that I chose.”
I nodded. It made sense. The man was literally rewriting his past on his own skin. He surprised me and reached for my wrist. He rolled it over and examined the silvery scars left behind. “A plastic surgeon could probably do something with this.”
I smirked. “I dunno. I kinda think it makes me look like a badass. It reminds me of how brave I was once.”
He cleared his throat and released my wrist. “Have you met your future husband yet?” he asked, changing the subject.
I closed my eyes. “I officially had my best date since I started this quest.”
“And?” he prompted.
“Best doesn’t mean much when it’s stacked up against all the other catastrophes. Nice guy. Wants kids. Zero sparks. I almost fell asleep in my soup while he was talking about last season’s fantasy football league. But maybe that’s what marriage is? A sparkless partnership based on what you can accomplish together.”
“Is that what you think our friends have? Sparkless partnerships?” Lucian asked, his lips curving ever so slightly.
I sighed. “No. They tamed the unicorn.” At his blank expression, I continued. “You know, they found the smoldering, I-wasn’t-my-best-self-until-I-met-you, I-want-to-make-all-your-dreams-come-true kind of once-in-a-lifetime, I-still-watch-you-walk-out-of-the-room love.”
“And you want the unicorn?” Lucian guessed.
“Who doesn’t? Present company excluded, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Yeah. I want the unicorn,” I admitted.