Page 129 of Give In

My eyes flew open, my brows practically in my hairline. “How’d you know?”

“You had me pick up a log of cookie dough last week. It’s gone, yet you never actually baked any cookies. Sushi was just a shot in the dark.”

“Not about that. About my parents.”

He lifted a brow, and his tone held more than a hint ofduh. “I’m a Political Theory professor. I already knew the facts and filled in the rest.”

There were details I could share to really paint a picture, but I didn’t want to get into them right then… or ever. Him knowing the basics was enough to let me breathe a little easier. I wanted to forget my past, and if I was always lying about it, I’d never be able to.

“Well, FYI,” I said, “I didn’t bake the cookies because I’d set your kitchen on fire. Just fixing a bowl of cereal can be a fire hazard where I’m concerned. I’m not much of a chef.”

He kissed me lightly. “Lucky for you, I am. Especially if it involves ordering delivery that should be here in,” he stood and looked at his watch, “ten minutes or so. Don’t move.”

Ten minutes isn’t really enough time to get filthy, but okay. I’m game.

My anticipation turned into curiosity as he jogged up the stairs. He came back down a minute later, grabbing the bags he’d left by the door before moving to stand behind the couch.

I craned my neck to look back at him, but he wouldn’t let me see what he held.

A bundle of fabric landed on the couch next to me. “My sweats and a tee for you to change into.” Another rolled bundle was dropped into my lap. “New blanket.” Two bottles of wine, a pack of pretty coasters, artisan chocolate, and a bag of ruffled chips were set on the small end table next to me. Fluffy slippers were added to the clothing pile, along with a holy grail item—a brand new strip of hair elastics.

All of that would’ve been more than enough, but not for Damien.

No, Damien Caine needed to ruin me.

Three books were passed to me one at a time, each more shirtless torso-y than the last. “I asked the woman at the bookstore for the raunchiest romance books they had. There was a fair amount of debate, but after an extensive process of elimination, these were the winners.” He grabbed the wine back up. “I’m going to put this and the ice cream in the freezer.”

I stared down at the books.

Not library books.

Not borrowed ones that no matter how much I loved, I’d have to say goodbye to and hope that next time I checked them out, the pages wouldn’t be folded or torn or written on.

These weremybooks.

My smutty books that I could read in comfy clothes with a glass or six of wine because I’d had a really shitty day.

Because Damien took care of me.

“I quit.”

Damien’s voice was rough and on edge. “There’s no quitting this, angel. You know that.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I shook my head and tried to find my voice past the lump in my throat. “Sinners. I quit Sinners.”

“When?”

“Does it matter?”

His thick fingers wrapped around my throat and pushed against my chin so I was looking up at him. “When did you quit?”

“This morning,” I whispered.

“After we talked?”

I shook my head. “When I went home to change before school.”

“So all that shit you gave me after class?”