When was the last time I spoke so honestly to someone?

When was the last time someone spoke so honestly to me?

It’s terrifying.

It’s the fucking tits.

“You saying bad guys turn you on?”

“I’m saying guys who sometimes do bad things for good reasons get me wet. Humanity in all its messy, imperfect glory is sexy AF.”

I laugh. What a peach this woman is. Cracking dirty jokes in the middle of crying.

Also. Deep down, I knew ending my marriage was the right move. But it all felt so horrible—my ex’s heartbreak, my family’s too, the emotional and financial fallout—that the bad kind of overshadowed the good.

When is breaking someone’s heart ever not a bad thing?

When your reasons are good.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, at some point during my divorce, I’d considered that concept. Turned it over in my head and heart, ultimately discarding it because it meant I could absolve myself of guilt, and I wasn’t ready to do that yet.

What if I’m never ready?

What if I’m ready now?

“You learn all that from romance?” I ask.

“Sure as hell did,” she says proudly. “It’s a genre that’s criminally underrated.”

“I believe it.”

“So are you going to tell me about this bad thing you did? Or are you going to politely ignore me like you did in there”—she tilts her head toward the kitchen—“and hit play on the Starks?”

I look at her, running my tongue along the inside edge of my front teeth.

I feel close. Close to ready.

But that’s not ready enough. This is years of emotional weight I’m trying to shed. Years of fucked up thinking and living.

I lean forward and hit play. I half expect Julia to call me out. Call me a coward.

I deserve it.

But instead she settles into the couch and picks up her spoon.

Her shoulder touches mine. I don’t move. Neither does she.

We watch Ned Stark’s life unravel in companionable silence. And even though part of me feels riled up inside, another part feels calm and contented and quiet.

I could get used to Julia’s brand of Netflix and chill.

Chapter Sixteen

Greyson

Halfway through episode two, Julia’s head lolls and falls lightly on my shoulder.

My heart skips a beat. Body warms.

I look down and see that she’s asleep. Eyes closed, chest rising and falling in an easy, slow rhythm. She feels warm and solid against me.

There are few places Julia and I haven’t touched each other. I’ve had fingers and tongue all over her body. She’s had me in her mouth, between her legs, between her tits.

But we’ve never had contact like this. Flirty, soft, fun touching that’s making those butterflies in my stomach take flight.

She’s trusting me. Me, the wolf.

This smart, brave woman thinks I’m worthy of her trust, despite knowing the strength of my bite.

Is it fucked up that that fills me? To the brim?