(TYLER)
Sasha releases my thumb with a wet suck. "You have been an asset. You taught me how to behave, how to dress, which shoes to wear—"
I grab the back of his neck and his eyes widen a little. I still have the capacity to surprise him. "Giving you a fucking makeover is all well and good. But that bullshit was always just the tip of the iceberg."
"You don't understand what you're asking."
"Yes I do, Sasha. Yes. I do."
His eyes, almost grey in the cold light of the bathroom, flick over mine, and then he leans in to kiss me. "I'll think it over," he says afterward.
"Sasha—"
"Tyler." He says my name affectionately but firmly, and I know I've run up against a brick wall. "I will think it over," he says again. "Now—"
