Free Not Until You: Part VI by Roni Loren Page B

like a big deal?”
    I glanced away. That would, of course, be awful—wondering anytime he said something if this was the time he was going to choose to lie. Gah. I didn’t want him to make sense. My righteous indignation felt so much better than thinking I’d actually hurt him.
    “You know what it makes me feel like when you lie to me?” he asked, his voice soft now.
    I pressed my lips together and shook my head, feeling a little more miserable with each passing second.
    “Like your fuck buddy, Cela. Like
some
guy.”
    I winced at his pained tone.
    So it was true. I’d hurt him.
    The thought ran through my head like a storm warning on repeat. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Foster wasn’t just angry that I’d lied to him; the lie and my lack of trust had honestly affected him. And that did something to me I couldn’t even explain. Hurt meant that this was important to him. Hurt meant that his feelings were involved. Hurt meant that earlier tonight he hadn’t jumped my case about the peephole because he was some overbearing asshole—he did it because he was genuinely concerned about me.
    Hurt meant everything.
    And even though I hadn’t realized I’d needed confirmation of that, something ragged inside me smoothed. My heart wasn’t the only one on the line here. We were both stripped-down and vulnerable.
    And he was right. How could I demand all those answers from him over dinner only to lie to him when he’d asked about my family? I hadn’t wanted to look like a coward or explain why it was so hard. But he was right. If we were going to be together, I needed to stop only showing him the parts of me I wanted him to see.
    “I’m sorry,” I said again, and in that moment, I realized how damn pathetic those words sounded. What did they mean anyway? Those words were supposed to make everything better? Show true remorse?
    Now I understood.
    Without saying another thing, I took a deep breath and slowly lowered myself to my knees. Once there, I picked up Foster’s tie, and lifted it to him, staying on the floor at his feet. He stared down at me, blue eyes going tender, and took the strip of silk from my hands. “Thank you. Stand up, angel.”
    He took my hand in his, helping me to my feet, then lifted my hand to his mouth to brush a kiss over my knuckles. His gaze stayed on mine, conveying so much through just one look. Appreciation. Heat. And relief. He’d been afraid I was going to walk out. Finally, he turned his head and sent a curt nod toward Kade, who’d stayed in the shadows while we’d been arguing. Foster tied the blindfold over my eyes again and then placed my hand in the crook of his elbow to guide us further down the hall.
    I had no idea where we were going or what awaited. But though nerves still bubbled in my belly, the rest of me had morphed into resolve. Foster cared about me. And I trusted him. If he was going to have Kade be a part of things, then I needed to have faith that he would only take it as far as he thought I could handle. And if either of them tried something I didn’t like, I had my safe word. I knew down in my gut that Foster would honor that no matter what, so that gave me the courage to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Even when I felt damp night air hit my face.
    “Take off your shoes, angel,” Foster said, his breath gusting over my neck. “I don’t want you to stumble.”
    “Okay.” Keeping my hand on him to steady myself, I slipped out of my heels. My bare feet hit a smooth, uneven surface—like the cobblestone that paved the sidewalk into the restaurant. Surely he couldn’t have me standing barefoot and blindfolded in front of the building, right? There was a parking lot out there and windows along the front of the restaurant where anyone would be able to see me. I wet my lips, worry like a heavy coat I couldn’t shrug off.
    “Easy,” he said, lifting my hair off my shoulder and pressing a kiss to the column of my neck, sending shivers down to my painted