“I covet privacy because it was something I was never permitted. I didn’t tell you about my parents because I never anticipated you would have the misfortune of meeting them. I took my grandparents’ last name because it separated me from them and removed the threat of association. They didn’t want people to know, and frankly, neither did I.”

I exhale slowly, hating the tightness in my chest, wishing I could control it. “I’m not normal, Charlene. I don’t feel things the same way other people do. Relationships are difficult for me because I genuinely struggle to understand where the boundaries should be. Mine were always too close or too far away. Real intimacy is unfamiliar and terrifying because I have not allowed it. Until you.”

She startles when I trace the edge of her jaw without making physical contact.

“And I’m beginning to see I haven’t done a very good job at conveying that, or making it easier for either of us with all of this secrecy,” I say.

“I understand the need for secrets.”

“I know you do.” I skim the back of her hand, a whisper of touch that helps calm me. “The only good thing about my childhood was hockey. I learned very quickly that people like to use my past for their own personal gain, hence the NDAs and the lack of relationships.”

“I understand that a lot better now.” She flips her palm over, the ends of our fingers meeting.

“My childhood fucked me up, Charlene, and I would like very much if it didn’t have the same impact on what we have. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to drive you away.”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, my childhood was pretty fucked up too, so I guess our broken parts sort of fit together, don’t they?”

“They seem to.” I stroke along her throat, where her pearls should be.

She covers my hand with hers. “I was fidgety today, and I couldn’t stop playing with my necklace. I worried I was going to break it again, so I took them off.” Reaching into the pocket of her skirt, she withdraws the pearls. “Will you help me put them back on?”

“Of course.”

She drops them in my palm.

Charlene gives me her back as she piles up her hair and bows her head, exposing the gentle slope of her neck. I clasp them around her throat and place a kiss just above where they lay. “I’m sorry if my secrecy hurt you, Charlene. I’ll try my very best not to do that to you again.”CHARLENE

Who knew finding out your boyfriend’s parents are porn stars could take a relationship to the next level? Not this woman, that’s for damn sure. It’s been three weeks since Darren met my mom, and he hasn’t decided my crazy is too much for him. In fact, for the past three weeks, I’ve seen more of him than usual. We’ve had more sleepovers in the past couple of weeks than we had in the two months before that. It’s weird. I like it. But it also makes me nervous.

Because I still have a secret, and Darren doesn’t anymore. I’ve considered telling him about The Ranch, but I don’t want to upset this new balance. I’ll tell him eventually—maybe after the playoffs are over and the expansion draft is out of the way.

I pull into the underground parking lot at Stroker and Cobb Financial Management and groan as I hoist myself out of the driver’s seat. My legs ache. So do my arms. Actually, my entire body hurts thanks to the marathon of sex Darren and I engaged in. Chicago lost last night’s game, and Darren needed a way to get out some of that pent-up negative energy. Obviously I offered to help. Hence I’m underslept and achy, but sated.

I take the elevator to the third floor. Six months ago I was offered a senior accounting position. Aside from Violet, I’m one of the youngest on staff in a senior position. Jimmy and Dean, who were hired around the same time as me and Violet, weren’t all that happy about it, and for a couple of weeks they were real dicks, but things have settled down. Mostly.

One of the perks of my promotion is that it came with a sweet office instead of a shitty cubicle and an extra forty grand a year. While I may only make a fraction of Darren’s salary, I’m doing pretty damn good for an almost twenty-six year old.

I drop my purse beside my desk and turn on my monitor so I can check emails. I’ve just finished logging in when Violet peeks her head in the door. “Do you have any snacks? I’m so freaking hungry this morning.”

“I should have something in this drawer.” I tap my desk and motion her inside while I pull up my emails. My mother has sent me a million. She still hasn’t figured out that she can text me pictures and doesn’t have to send them individually by email. “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”