Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)

by Elsie Silver

It’s unsettling how fast I can snap a facade into place.

“Her name is Tabitha, not that you need to know. Because you? You’re going to keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth.”

I’ve spent a lifetime thinking I don’t like talking. It turns out I just needed the right person to talk to.

“I wish you weren’t seeing me like this.” My brow furrows. “Like what?” “At my worst.” I tip my head toward her. “Then it’s all uphill from here, baby. It’s going to make seeing you at your best so damn special.”

We’ve kissed in anger. We’ve kissed to taunt. We’ve kissed for show. But we’ve never kissed like this. Like we need each other to breathe and don’t care if the other one knows it.

Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to say the things in my head so freely, without agonizing over every word or second-guessing every sentiment before I say it.”

“Did I say you could talk to my wife?”