Free Insecure by Ainslie Paton Page B

Last night, that’s all we were, a game.” But now, now what were they, what could they be? What did she have time for them to be?
    â€œFor maybe two seconds I thought that. Until I looked in your eyes. Someone has hurt you.”
    â€œIt was a long time ago.”
    He came up on one elbow, hand to the side of his head. “Distance doesn’t heal everything. Last night I tried to be easy with you.”
    â€œBut not then.”
    He shook his head, looked away. “I forgot myself.”
    â€œI’m glad.”
    â€œNot if I scared you.”
    â€œYou didn’t.”
    He turned his head and looked down at her. “But someone did.”
    He wasn’t going to let it go. She rolled to mirror his pose. “Last night I was pissed off and drunk, a little scared, and being deliberately reckless, hitting on you like I did. I didn’t think you’d care what I said. And I did trust you. Not in a he won’t take naked pictures of me and post them all over the internet way.”
    â€œWhat? You thought—”
    She put her hand over his mouth. “But in a this guy isn’t going to hurt me physically way.”
    He shook free of her hand. “You couldn’t have known that.”
    â€œYou told me you weren’t dangerous.”
    â€œCinta.”
    He was chastising her. No one called her that. Her mother and Malcolm had insisted on her full name. She was Jacinta at work. At school she’d been Jac, and she was Jac to Bryan, and Jay called her Cin, but Cinta was a new one. She liked it and felt vaguely silly for it. “You weren’t lying. You wouldn’t hurt me.”
    â€œBut some other guy did. For all you knew, I was that guy.”
    Before her one night stand turned himself inside out over a comment she’d never meant to make, she had to put him out of his misery. “You think I randomly hit on you, that you were just there—right place, right time?”
    â€œI think.” He frowned and resolved whatever he’d been about to say with, “Yeah.”
    â€œI was reckless, but not dumb. I knew who you were. I’ve been watching you.”
    He sat up, hauled the sheet over his lap and crossed his legs. “Watching me.”
    Was he creeped out? She’d made it sound stalkerish. She sat too, but didn’t bother covering herself. There was nothing about her body he hadn’t seen, touched, excited. She needed to explain that she’d chosen him in a calculated way from watching him work, seeing him interact with others.
    â€œYou only think you know.”
    Was he angry? Did he feel used? There was no hint in his voice, no shade in his expression to tip her off. But his fist was furled in the sheet.
    â€œSo tell me about you. Tell me what else you get intense about.”
    â€œNo one else, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    â€œI wasn’t...you don’t.” Fabulous, she sounded like him. She touched his knee. She wasn’t sure how to soothe him. She was annoyed with herself for wrecking their peace and with him for his sudden petulance. He knew which way was up when he got in her car.
    â€œMaybe the curfew is over.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed. It’d gotten stupidly complicated. She’d check the police website; the sooner Mace left the better. She had things to do.
    â€œIntense is my default mode.”
    Feet on the floor, she stopped.
    â€œI’m either in something or I’m not. I’m no good with half-measures.”
    She reached for her robe. Behind her he was still, but she hung on to his voice.
    â€œI only work at Wentworth to have money to live on, to pay for what Buster needs.”
    She dragged the robe across her knees, but kept her back to him. “Go on.”
    â€œI’ve got shit for brains.”
    She laughed. “You think telling me you have interests outside Wentworth is a problem.”
    â€œI don’t