“Yeah. Dante was dropped from the G league and not a single person or company in the industry would touch him with a ten-foot pole. I tried to stand beside him, but he wouldn’t let me. He didn’t want to drag me down with him, which is laughable since it was my fault anyway. He refused to speak to me or see me until I agreed to let him sink alone. I’ve been sending him money every month since then.”

“For almost ten years?”

“Yeah. He gives me shit and tells me to stop, but I don’t know what else to do to make up for what I cost him. He does well for himself now—he works in construction—but his plan had been to take care of his entire family when he was called up to the NBA. He has a daughter now too, and I hate that when she grows up she’s going to find those articles about him and question the incredible man that raised her because he is none of the things they said.”

“Olivia, you warned him about your father and the threats he made before. He chose to stay. He chose you. It’s not all on you.”

She laughs. “Now you sound like him.”

“Then he’s a smart man.”

“I hear you. I do. But I can’t just make my brain believe something else after spending the last decade thinking I’m horrible.”

“You’ll get there eventually.”

“I guess we’ll see. But when I say you should be afraid of my dad, now you understand why.”

“I do. Doesn’t change shit though.”

“Ugh, and I’m the stubborn one.”

“I’m stubborn when it comes to you.”

“Fine. I’m going to try to work on letting you love me, and you’re going to hold me accountable.”

I stick my hand between our slick bodies. “Done.”

She takes my hand in hers with a devilish smirk. “Good. Now, I think this whole fucking thing calls for a prize.”

I chuckle and motion toward the jars behind us. “Pick your poison.”

She staggers off of my lap and studies the jars, landing on the chocolate syrup. Returning to her rightful spot on my lap, she drips the chocolate syrup on my chest right over my heart, in the shape of a heart. No words are spoken as she licks me clean, but the message was clear.

“Actually, I think I should get two more since I answered two extra questions.”

“Seems only fair.”

“Pants, please.”

Game on, love. I don’t hesitate to pull my pants down where my gray boxer briefs are doing nothing to hide how much I want her. My briefs extend to my midthigh, but she pushes them up farther before taking my spoon and dripping honey on one leg and strawberry sauce on the other.