Bet on Me by Alisha Rai

freezer.
    He was braced now. Waiting for her to freak out or shriek. As if she wasn’t a mature, intelligent woman.
    She tugged the blanket tighter around her and scooted closer until she could layer herself over his back. “If you’d rather not talk about it,” she said quietly. “We don’t have to.”
    His shoulders tensed. “You’re not mad?”
    “No.” She kissed his neck, right at his hairline. “We’re in a relationship, not a mind meld. You’re allowed your thoughts.”
    “I didn’t tell you when I found out. You should be furious.”
    Anything she wanted to say— you didn’t have to, you had your reasons —sounded snarky, though she meant the words sincerely. “This isn’t like what we talked about before, about us communicating when we’re angry,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I get that family carries a whole different set of baggage. Talk to me if it’ll make you feel better. If you need some time, that’s okay, too.”
    He turned so swiftly, she wasn’t prepared for the weight of his body. He pushed her down on the bed and came up over her, holding himself on his elbows, his face very close to hers. “I…” he exhaled harshly, sounding frustrated.
    Her heart gave a little pang. “Can I snuggle you right now?”
    He jerked his head back and eyed her. “ Snuggle me?”
    “Sure.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down so his head was pressed against her chest. “Snuggling is crucial when we get news that throws us for a loop. I’ll teach you. Here. Put your arm here, and then move your head like this. Ah, perfect.”
    They lay like that for a long while, Tatiana running her fingers through his short hair and staring into the darkness of the room.
    “You sure you’re not mad?” The words were muffled against her breasts.
    She blinked rapidly. Did he think she was a monster?
    No, that wasn’t fair. Ten years ago—hell, maybe even a year ago—she might have happily lit into him for failing to tell her about this right away. Her kneejerk reaction when he’d just spilled the beans proved she wasn’t immune to that kind of thinking.
    She grimaced. She wasn’t perfect, but she’d be damned if she acted like an immature twit anymore.
    “I’ll confess something,” she said, struggling to find something to say, to open the conversation. “After our first night together, I went to see Ron, and I told him I would give him the money to reimburse you, but to continue paying you in installments so you wouldn’t know.”
    He had stilled in her arms, but she was certain he was listening. Wyatt had been adamant about not taking her money to make up for Ron’s embezzlement, even ripping up the check she had offered him. “It took Ron about a week to realize you and I might be headed somewhere serious. He told me he changed his mind and he paid me back what I’d given to him. I was annoyed with him, until I realized he basically saved us a massive argument.” She lightly tugged his hair. “See? I kept something from you, too. I’m sorry about that. But family things can be weird.”
    He turned his head, though he didn’t respond. His breathing grew deeper. So deep, she was startled when he spoke. “Do you remember how I said I never searched for you after we broke up because I didn't think I would be able to keep myself from showing up at your door?” he asked.
    She held her breath. “Yes.”
    “I didn't search for my father after I left because I didn't care what happened to him.”
    The lack of emotion in his voice made her ache.
    They didn’t talk about his dad. What she knew about Wyatt between the time his mother had died and the time he had moved out was superficial.
    As an adoptee, she knew better than most that love often transcended biology. She felt no emotion for her birth mother, beyond disappointment and an occasional wistfulness. Wyatt hated his father. And from what Tatiana had been able to piece together, that hate was