I pause it and draw nearer to him. And then I scrutinize the shape of Rhys’s lips. His hand so gentle on the crystal stem of his wineglass. The way his waist tapers in from impossibly broad shoulders. “That’s you.” His dark eyes bore into mine, and his Adam’s apple bobs heavily. “You don’t leave for weeks at a time to fuck people. You leave for weeks at a time to fuck people up.” His tongue pops into the side of his cheek, and that seals the deal for me. It’s him. “Tabitha…” My lips curve up. “Am I Mrs. Wild Side?” Rhys rolls his eyes and looks away.
