It Takes Two Read Online Free PDF

What if I’ve been afraid to tell you because I thought you would think I was weird or boring?”
    Okay, he saw what was going on here.
    “I get it, Iz. You’re nervous about living together. You’re afraid I’ll be turned off by your morning breath.”
    She raised an eyebrow. “Morning breath,” she repeated. “Uh, yeah. That’s what I was thinking about.”
    “And you’re probably worried that I might have some weird habits.”
    “Bad habits,” she corrected. “The term is bad habits. And I think I’m aware of a few. Being a know-it-all is a bad habit, don’t you think?”
    He grinned. This was fun. He needed her to see that this was something worth joking about, that they could smile even through morning breath. They were going to be fine. “Don’t worry. I don’t collect anything and the only thing I buy in bulk is snack-sized chips.”
    She stared at him.
    He shrugged. “I like having the variety. Some days you’re in the mood for sour cream and onion and then the next day you might need barbecue, you know?”
    Isabelle shook her head. “Wow. Well, hey, good. It’s all cleared up then and there’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”
     
    Isabelle knew she should be annoyed. Part of her was, of course, because he wasn’t taking this seriously at all. But he was effectively making his point.
    From where he was standing, they didn’t have any insurmountable obstacles.
    Even as they talked about buying chips and ketchup in bulk, she was thinking about how great it would be to open the cupboard and see those little bags of chips and think of him.
    And the fact that snack bags of barbecue potato chips were suddenly a little romantic only proved how far gone she was over him.
    She’d almost told him that her stuff didn’t include stuffed animals or strange collections. It was a lot bigger than that. It was going to make a mess of a lot more than his living space.
    She’d tried to work up to it, mentioning the vanilla sex, alluding to the fact that there was even more to it. But, then, instead of anything about her fibromyalgia, she’d said checkers . Yeah, she was really worried about him not liking checkers. That was hardly a deal-breaker.
    Why couldn’t she tell him? Why couldn’t she say the damned word? Fibromyalgia. It wasn’t even all that long or technical. But she simply could not get the word out of her mouth.
    Because Emma’s words had hit her hard. Clearly there were a lot of emotions there for her sister—guilt, anger, confusion, fear, worry.
    All of that would happen to Shane too.
    When she thought of Shane, she thought of his easy grin, his big laugh, his inappropriate sense of humor, the way he made everyone around him feel accepted and happy. The way he made her feel like the sexiest, most beautiful woman in the world.
    That was the Shane she loved. The Shane everyone loved. And she knew he loved being that guy. Being the good-time guy with the jokes and the sucky pool game and the cotton candy machine was who he wanted to be. And she wanted that Shane. Not a worried, guilty, angry Shane that would act awkward and careful around her.
    That’s what she hated most about how Emma sometimes treated her. Like she couldn’t go on a shopping marathon or do Monday mango margaritas at their house or take a road trip to see the Goo Goo Dolls.
    She loved that Shane would throw her over his shoulder, or push her up against the wall, or get creative on the living room floor. That was where the damned Position of the Day thing came from. She’d wanted to prove to herself that she wasn’t delicate or breakable. Sure, she felt some of it the next day, but she was not going to let her condition keep her from asking Shane to bend her over the back of the couch.
    And speaking of some of her favorite positions…
    Yeah, she was going to ease him in, all right. She wasn’t going to say one damned thing about fibromyalgia tonight. Screw it. One more night of denial wouldn’t hurt.
    “You