“You gave him a shot because he reminded you of me?” I press.
She looks completely mortified. “No, no, no, I… that… That’s not what I meant.”
She glares at me. “Forget I said that.”
She groans and buries her face in her hands. I, on the other hand, am smirking from ear to ear. Thelittle kiska has spent every breath since I found her again denying that our night together six years agomeant anything to her.
But it’s so f*****g clear now: I’m burned in her memories, in her mind, in her heart. She can’t get ridof me no matter how hard she tries.
“Wipe that smug expression off your face. I just meant that he was confident and persistent, too,” shesays. “All that means is that you’re both privileged white men who aren’t used to hearing the word‘no.’”
“Should I tell him that next time we ta
