"Hey," Smoker cupped her chin affectionately. "I didn't say you couldn't get jealous. If you're mad, get mad. Just tell me about it. The why and how because if I fucked up, it's only fair. I didn't go to a brothel looking for..." Smoker flushed just from the insinuation. "I never will. Never have. I have you. No one else comes close. And even before... I'm not... That's illegal." He ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't just tell her he wasn't the type of guy to go to those places, that he didn't even want to, because of how she might react. No matter how many times he said it was different.

"You can be jealous. Just don't sit there bottling it up or letting it stew without telling me that's what's happening. Come punch me or something if you think I deserve it. I love you." Second time he'd said it in a row and his heart was still racing from it. "For everything you are. So be you. If you want to string me up to dry, go ahead and do it, just tell me why."