He rolls onto his side to face me. “There is no plan. I have already done it, but what do you want to know?”
“I know you have two sisters, but I’ve only heard you talk about Jess.”
“My other sister’s name is Meeka.”
“Is she older or younger?” I ask as he reaches out to trace the tattoos on my arm.
“Older than Jess, younger than me.”
“Are they close?”
He smiles. “Thick as thieves, and they always have been. You can’t get a word in when they are both in the room. They talk over each other the entire time.”
“I always wanted a sister.”
“It’s a nightmare. I wish I had a brother.”
“Who do you worry about more?”
He thinks about it for a second. “It depends on the day. Jess is more reckless—she doesn’t think before sheacts. Though Meeka is more careful, she isn’t as vocal as Jess if she has a problem. That worries me a lot.”
“What about your dad?”
“He is a good man, works a lot, always has since our mom passed. He did his best to raise three kids by himself. I took on the parent role because he was always working, and I guess that has carried over even now that they are both adults.”
“That must have been a lot to take on.”
Clay shrugs. “I didn’t think about it. They needed me and I was there for them.” Clay wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer.
“Do they know what you do here after dark?”
His lips pull up at the corners. “Jess does—she calls them my kinky little night chases. I nearly had a heart attack when she first said it.”
I chuckle. “And what did you say to her?”
“I told her she was basically twelve and to mind her own business.”
“Something tells me she won’t mind her business much longer.”
Clay laughs. “She definitely won’t. Thankfully, Meeka doesn’t know the specifics. She only knows what happens during the day, and hopefully it stays that way. If either tells my dad everything, I’ll die.”
I smile. I really like this softer version of Clay. Who would have thought that under the dick persona is a decent human being? “You’re not what people think you are.”
His brow furrows. “What do they think I am?”
“An asshole who will throw people off the bridge.”
He laughs, and it’s more than a chuckle; it’s a full belly laugh. “I would definitely throw people off the bridge.”
“I don’t doubt it, but that is not all you are.”
He yanks the pillow from under his head and puts it over mine. “Go to sleep before you blow my cover.”
He pulls it off when I let out a muffled giggle. “I would never.”
But I roll over and face away from him, and he pulls my body back against his. As I snuggle into his warmth and the feeling of safety, my eyes fall closed straight away.
Clay