Chapter 9
S ailor
"Talk?"
"Yes, talk. You look panicked as hell and you shouldn’t be.”
"I’m sure you’re aware that nowhere in the history of relationships has the phrase we need to talk ever been classified as a situation where one or both parties didn’t need to feel panicked."
He fucking smiled. And shit, I hated how appealing this man was. It wasn’t fair the way his presence filled a room without him having to try. It wasn’t just physical. It was the way he looked at me like he saw the parts I kept hidden from everyone else and that terrified me.
"You make the strongest, most intelligent and tactical men in this city cry while facing off with them in court, Sail. Why the hell are you stressed about talking to me?”
He had a point. I was undefeated in the courtroom. A gotdamn legend but those men didn’t have a personal connection to me or the power to totally destroy my world.
The scariest part of all was that I cared about the idea of this marriage more than I should and also caring about the way my name sounded attached to his was abso-fucking-lutley insane. I’m someone’s wife.
I wasn’t ready to admit that to him and damn sure not even to myself. I was beginning to entertain what this could be if I stopped fighting him.
I steeled my expression and slipped into the role I knew best—controlled, calculated, and guarded. "Acknowledging the obvious, I was more concerned about you than myself. I’m fully capable of engaging in relationship talk.”
His eyes remained locked on mine. "I’m sure you are, but this is more of a Sailor and Rival talk. We know the bare minimum about each other. I figure we need to explore more than just how easily it is for me to make that pussy wet, Sail. Let’s start with some questions."
Pussy currently wet from the reminder…
"Questions?"
"Yes, questions, like normal human beings getting to know each other outside of the physical. You do know how that works, right?" He grinned and I resisted the urge to throw something at him.
"I'm well versed in normal human interactions, asshole."
"Good, then this should be painless." He studied me with those eyes, exposing me.
"Fine. What kind of questions?"
"The basics. Favorite color, food, hobby, first pet's name, that kind of shit."
I arched my brow. "Are you trying to steal my identity through security questions?"
"I already stole your last name, Sailor Hassan. What more could I possibly want?"
"Blue, sushi but also breakfast foods at any hour of the day, reading legal briefs for fun because I'm a masochist, and I never had pets because my father wouldn’t allow it. Pets would distract us from investing in our greatness. Your turn."
Rival grinned at my rapid-fire response. "I was thinking we would take turns, but I should have fucking known you would bulldoze through things your way."
"Efficiency is key."
"Also skipping vulnerability. The color gray, anything grilled, and I'm serious, anything, woodworking beyond what I do for clients, and a lab named Max."
"You had a dog named Max? That's disgustingly wholesome."
"Not all of us spent our childhoods plotting courtroom domination, Sail."
I smirked. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
He shifted and moved closer, which made the bed dip slightly. "It's not. It's just very you and very Addison. Next question: biggest fear?"
"We're jumping from favorite colors to biggest fears? That's a big ass escalation."
"Are you dodging?"
"Yes."
He laughed, and fuck, it was infuriatingly appealing. "At least you're honest about your evasion tactics."
"Fine. Biggest fear..." I paused, because shit, this was hard. "Failing. Not being good enough."
The words left my mouth before I could filter them and I immediately regretted being honest. Damnit, I should have said something casual like spiders or heights.
Rival's expression softened, but thankfully, he didn't dive into my brief moment of emotional diarrhea.
"Mine is not living up to my potential. My mother sacrificed everything to give me opportunities. Wasting them feels flawed as fuck."
The confession hung between us and created a strange connection I wasn't entirely comfortable with.
"Tell me about your business.” I decided it was better to move toward safer territory.
I cringed slightly. He was incredibly talented but we’d never discussed this in the months he was at my apartment, other than what he was working on for me.
“It's not just a business. It's sanctuary . There's something about working with wood that’s unforgiving but fair. You can't rush or fake it. Either you respect the material and the process or the shit doesn’t work."
I was genuinely interested because I felt that it did truly mean something to him. Shit, did I care about what made my husband happy?
"How did you get into it?"
"My grandfather. He was a carpenter. When I was eight, he started teaching me. Said I had good hands." Rival lifted his hands, turning them over, making me remember the feel of his hands on me—callused and talented. "After he died, I kept at it. I needed the connection to him."
"I'm sorry about your grandfather."
"Thank you. It was a long time ago so I’m in a better place with it. Your turn. Tell me something about your work that isn't just about winning."
"What makes you think it’s not all about winning for me?" I arched my brow.
"Because no one is that fucking one-dimensional, not even the Sailor Hassan."
I grinned and rolled my eyes at the use of his last name instead of mine.
"I like...fixing things. Being a voice for those who don’t have one.”
"See? I knew there was more to you."
"Don't get used to it. I'm still ruthless, calculating, and self-serving."
"And incredibly fucking sexy when you’re being humble."
I didn’t do this, ever, but oddly enough this was nice .
"Why the celibacy?" The question tumbled out before I could stop it.
He didn't seem surprised. "Sex is intimate for me. Always has been. I got tired of pretending it wasn't."
"Oh…”
I felt like shit for taking something from him that he valued and I didn’t. I guess he sensed my conflict.
"You've had a lot of sex, Sail. How many times have you walked away feeling truly satisfied? Not just physically, but here?" He tapped his chest.
I didn't answer, which was answer enough, because never. I always felt worse after the high leveled and I pushed them away.
"Exactly," he said, not pushing further. "What about your siblings? You seem close."
"We are now. It wasn't always that way. Skylar was the responsible one, TJ was the promised prodigy, and I was..."
"The rebel?"
"The selfish one." I shrugged. "But things shifted into a bad place years ago. We all went through our stuff but found our way back to each other. They're my anchors now."
Which was why this marriage had to work. I couldn’t let them suffer because of my selfishness.
"And your father? The great Torrance Addison Sr.?"
I tensed again. "Complicated. He loves us, but on his terms. Everything with him has conditions, expectations. You would think I'd have outgrown the need for his approval, but..." I trailed off, not ready to dive too deeply into my family dynamics.
"Fathers and daughters. I kind of understand,” he said robotically. “My mom raised me alone after my dad died. Sometimes I wonder if I would be different if he had been around."
"Different how?"
"I don't know. It’s not really something I can explain. Sons need their fathers the same as daughters need their mothers and I didn’t have that."
We were quiet and I found myself studying him. The curve of his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed when he was thinking. Rival was a beautiful and intense man.
"If we survive this year and nothing changes, are you still going to bail?"
The question caught me off guard. "You agreed to the terms."
"I'm not asking about the fucking agreement, Sail. I’m asking what you’re willing to be open to and shit, what you feel."
"Relief, I guess." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.
"You're a terrible fucking liar."
"I'm an excellent liar."
"To someone who doesn’t know you, possibly."
I stood, needing space. "I'm getting water. Want some?"
"I'm good." I felt his eyes on me as I headed to the door. "Sail?"
I paused and sighed. "What?"
"Thank you; this was a good start."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak or look back. Because start of what? The uncertainty was both terrifying and settling. This man wanted me even after truly seeing the person I was. I had not a damn clue what to do with that.
When I reached the kitchen, I leaned against the counter and took deep breaths. I had been married for barely a minute and already my carefully constructed walls were showing cracks. The problem wasn't Rival trying to break them down but that my stupid heart wanted to let him in.
One year , I reminded myself. Just one year.
Unfortunately, I wasn't entirely convinced that would be enough.