Page 80 of Face Off With Fate

“Sleeping with a man? This is what happens? You lie next to each other like…” I waved up and down my body, unsure if he could see. “Feels like I’m a vampire in a coffin.”

His low chuff had my nipples pebbling against the cotton fabric of my shirt.

“No, this isn’t usually how it goes.” He paused. “At least not from what I remember. It’s been a while for me.”

“How long?” I asked.

Monroe’s body went rigid beside me.

“Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

He’s going to rebuild the wall of pillows or push me onto the floor.

He cleared his throat. “I haven’t slept in a bed with a woman since before Goldie. Like…a few years before her.”

“That how long it’s been since you’ve had sex?”

Fuck.

My neck and cheeks flushed. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. If the plush pillow-topped mattress could swallow me whole, that would be great.

Monroe turned toward me. Heat radiated off his body, calling to me like a siren song, but I glued my gaze to the sliver of moonlight shining on the ceiling. It took all my restraint not to shove him the other way.

“You don’t pull your punches, do you, Trouble?”

“I used to,” I whispered, unsure why I shared.

“Hmm. Well, I like that you don’t.” Butterflies erupted low in my stomach at his praise. “To answer your question, no, that’s not how long it’s been since I’ve had sex. But it’s been…awhile.”

Vanilla lip balm coated my tongue, my teeth sinking into the fleshy part of my lip. It was time to cut off this conversation. I’d already pried too far into his life with my questions.

His elbow bumped into my arm, causing me to jump. “Ask what you really want to ask.”

“How do you know I want to ask you something? Maybe I was falling asleep.”

He grunted, calling my bullshit.

“Okay, so…where is Goldie’s mom? I’ve never heard you talk about her, and I kept my promise not to dig into it.”

“Rachel…” He paused, clearing his throat. “Rachel passed,” he said gently, and my lids closed, regret flooding my body at the answer.

He shifted, and without thinking, my hand snaked out, finding his. He threaded our fingers, calloused palm kissing my smooth one.

Grief was complex. Never a single emotion, but a mash-up of feelings all at war with one another. There was no rule book for it, for how to deal with it, or for who’d experience it. The only thing I knew for certain was that it was a bitch.

I lied, telling myself he needed the comfort.

When I needed his.

Monroe’s gravelly voice disrupted the quiet. “We were never together. Not really, anyway. I was young, making good money in the league, living on top of the world. And we hooked up while out on the road. We were responsible too, but…”

The words drifted off, and I squeezed his hand.

“I didn’t even know she was pregnant until I got the call. The hospital said Rachel gave the paramedics my information. Told ’em I was the father. She was almost due when she got into the accident. A drunk driver T-boned her. Her injuries were too severe. They pulled her off life support shortly after it happened.”

His voice cracked, fingers tightening around mine. I wasn’t sure if he knew he was caressing the side of my thumb with his.

My heart broke for what he must have gone through.