“Where is your bedroom?” “Not so fast.” I cocked my head, and he smiled. “I want a story. Before we go upstairs.” Ah, yes. Our currency. “An ugly one that proves how terrible a person I am?” “Doesn’t matter. As long as it’s true.” He paused. “As long as it’s just for me.” “They all are.” I’d told him things I’d never admitted out loud to another soul. It was the same for him, I knew without having to ask.
