“You’ll drive what I tell you to drive.”

My temper’s rising. “I’m not going to drive some crazy, unsafe thing I can’t even handle. I’m eighteen. I’ve been driving my grandma’s shitty, slow car for two years. The Audi is perfect, and I am keeping it.”

It occurs to me that it’s the first time I’m that firm about…well, anything. So far, he’s told me how this thing between us was going to work, and I’ve accepted it. But really? A brand-new car, just because he wants to be the one in charge, the one who controls and chooses what I do?

In truth, I haven’t minded so far. The room’s great. I love most of his decisions.

But I like the car. It’s a cute baby blue.

“Fine.”

I lift my eyes to his, baffled. He backed off?

“Really?”

He sighs. “If you like the car that much, whatever. But I’d really rather not hear from someone else that you have a need you haven’t fulfilled when that’s my part of our bargain. I define need not as the strict necessities for survival, but at whatever you should have to make your life pleasant, easy, and fulfilling. You needed a car. Clear?”

I slowly nod, because I think I understand him a little better. He does take that…commitment?…he made to me seriously.

“Your kitchen,” I say. “It’s pretty well equipped, but it doesn’t have a good mixer. There’s one downstairs, but I’m guessing Claudio needs it. I would…like one.” I swallow. “To bake. Try Dez’s tricks.”

I’m biting my lower lip. I don’t need a mixer, by my definition. But by his? I think I might.

He smiles at me. “If you plan on making more things like what you brought today, you definitely should get whatever you need.”

Keller takes another one of the towels from under the sink—I make a mental note that they’re kept there—and dries his hair. “You know what kind you want?”

“Dez has a Thermomix. It heats things up as well as mixing them. But it looks fancy and complicated. Maybe something like a KitchenAid?”

He nods. “You should look around the kitchen before you place the order. See if there’s anything else you’d like.”

“Will do.”

This is…strange. We had an argument. Over the fact that he wants to buy me whatever I want—although he uses the word “need.”

Half out of curiosity, half to fill the silence, I ask, “Is your dad seeing your sister?”

“No.” He’s not bothered by the question. “I’m not saying they don’t fuck occasionally. I’m sure they do. But they’re both doms, so they wouldn’t fit well together. They know that.”

“That’s crazy.” I shake my head.