I told her everything.
Sitting in that café booth with two coffees between us and the morning light coming through the window, I started at the beginning – the real beginning – and didn't stop. The bar. The bathroom. The stranger with grey eyes who turned out to be my mother's boyfriend's son. The dinner where his foot found mine under the table. The deal written on the back of a tutor form. The rules I'd underlined twice and broken in every room of his apartment.
Sienna's face was a masterclass in real-time processing.
The bar hookup: mouth open, coffee frozen halfway to her lips. The stepbrother reveal: "No. No. You're lying. You are – Naomi Ellis, you are not telling me that the bar bathroom stranger is–" The restaurant fingering: she set her coffee down and pressed both hands flat o
