Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(93)
Author: Leisa Rayven

“What? What’s in there?” I didn’t really believe it was human body parts, but now I’m not so sure.

“What’s in there is no one’s business but mine,” he says, as he grabs the remaining clothes out of his bag and slams them into drawers.

“Ethan…”

“Just drop it, okay?”

“You’re really not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s private, all right? Just because we’re going out doesn’t mean you get to know everything about me.”

“Uh, actually, I kind of thought that was the point.” I walk over and lay my hands on his chest. “Aren’t we supposed to show each other all our ugly parts and see if we like each other anyway?” He tenses when I push under his shirt to touch his warm skin.

“Taylor…” His eyes get heavy when I explore his muscles.

“I mean, apart from you murdering someone and burying them in your backyard, there’s nothing you could tell me that would make me not like you. You’re aware of that, right?”

He breathes heavily. I move my hands around to his sides, then run my palms over his ribs and up to his shoulder blades. He closes his eyes and drops his head. “What are you doing?”

“Convincing you.” I run my fingernails down his back, and it makes him groan. “Ethan, please tell me what’s in the drawer.”

He exhales, and I can tell he’s wavering.

“If you tell me, I’ll kiss you. A lot.”

“Low blow.”

“I’ll do that, too.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to give me shit.”

“When do I ever—?” I stop myself and sigh. Yeah, can’t even pretend to deny it. “Okay. I promise.”

“And you have to make good on your promise to kiss me. A lot.”

“Definitely. And the low blow?”

The look he gives me makes me shiver. “Don’t tempt me. My mother is downstairs.”

“Okay, fine. It’s a deal.”

He sighs then walks over to the chest of drawers. “Remember, no mocking.”

I draw a cross on my chest.

He pulls his key ring out of his pocket and uses a small brass key to unlock the bottom drawer.

“I don’t fucking believe I’m doing this,” he mutters as he pulls the drawer open.

I step forward and peer inside. It’s full of plain, fabric-covered books.

“Um … okay.”

He’s waiting for a reaction. The only one I can give him is confusion. “I’m sorry, Holt, I don’t understand.”

He sighs. “Remember when I read your diary? I was a total asshole and yelled at you for writing all that shit down where people could find it? Well, this is why. I was scared someone might find these. That you might find these one day, and…”

What he’s saying becomes clear. “Oh my God.”

He bends down and picks up one of the books.

“These are all…?”

“Yeah.”

He flips open the front cover and holds it up for me to see:

The Journal of Ethan Holt. Keep the fuck out.

“You keep diaries!”

He drops the book back into the drawer and shoves it closed with his foot. “Journals, Taylor, not diaries. There’s a difference.”

“Oh, please. How is a journal different from a diary?”

“It just is, okay? Men don’t keep diaries.”

“Well, obviously they do.”

“Goddammit, you said you wouldn’t mock.”

I hold up my hands. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” We’re silent for a moment, then I ask, “So what do you write in there?”

“The same sort of stuff you write in yours, I suppose.”

“Really? So you’re also a sexually frustrated virgin who’s obsessed with a handsome actor’s penis?”

He sighs and drops his head.

“I’m sorry,” I say, laughing. “But you gave me such a hard time after you read my diary. Aren’t I allowed to have a little fun?”

“A little,” he says grudgingly.

“So, do I feature in your diary?”

His ears pink, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Maybe. Not these, but the one back at my apartment.”

“Are you ever going to let me read something? Quid pro quo, and all that.”

“Not in this lifetime. Or the next, for that matter.” He looks at the floor, and I feel bad for poking fun. Revealing this to me is a huge step for him, and I shouldn’t make light of it.

I walk over and touch his face, then rise on my toes to kiss him lightly. “Thank you. For showing me. It means a lot.”

He looks away. “Yeah. Sure.”

I kiss him again, longer this time, and after a moment’s hesitation, he responds. Strong arms wind around me as he kisses me more passionately, and just as I register his giant hands are cupping my butt, I hear a throat clear behind us.

We both turn to see Maggie in the doorway, trying not to smile. “Sorry to interrupt, but dinner’s ready.”

Without another word, she disappears.

Holt exhales and drops his head to my shoulder. I notice his hands remain on my ass.

“Well, I guess now we don’t have to tell Mom we’re dating.”

“Nope. Guess not.”

When we get downstairs, Elissa and Maggie are already seated. Tribble guards a chair I guess to be Ethan’s. I swear she sneers at me.

“Sit, please,” Maggie says and gestures to the remaining place settings. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving.”

Tribble growls as I sit next to Holt, and he chastises her under his breath.

When his mom passes him a plate of pasta, he clears his throat and says, “Mom, I … uh … I wanted to tell you earlier about Cassie and me, but … well…”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Maggie says and offers me a bowl of salad. “I already knew.”

Holt shoots an accusing glare at his sister.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” she says and holds up her hands defensively. “I haven’t said a thing.”

“Then how did she know?”

“Sweetheart,” Maggie says, “when you’re a mother, it’s easy to read the emotions of your children. It’s been obvious to me you have feelings for Cassie, and I’m glad you finally acted upon them. I’m very happy for you.”