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I lean back against my handlebars and grin. “He takes you to a posh restaurant and attempts to impress you with his knowledge of the words that jump off the menu. Daddy’s credit card is burning a hole in his pocket, and he is praying that settling the cheque will be a good investment.”
“Investment?” She arches her brow and I nod.
“Sex usually, but in your case, both sex and a gold-lined future as your husband. He will be assured of swelling the family bank account with your trust fund and spend his late nights at the office inside his secretary. You will remain at home to lunch with other hapless wives and bear his children, who will be shifted onto the nanny.”
She grins. “You know this life. How?”
I shrug. “I’m a great observer. I’ve seen it happen every fucking time, and it only ends up in the divorce courts.”
I hold up my hand and grin. “Unless the man is into politics and then not even a messy divorce can help you. You’re in it for the duration and will resort to affairs wherever you can get them, tripping over his lies as you replace them with yours.”
She laughs out loud and then grins impishly,
“What is your life like, Apollo? Let me guess.”
“I can’t wait for this one.” I roll my eyes and she leans forward, her mouth inches from mine, and whispers, “You travel alone, taking jobs from whoever needs their dirty work done.”
“Dirty work?” I laugh out loud. “Go on.”
She shrugs. “You fuck lonely women and ones who need the work, probably in your trailer or down a side alley against the dark, depressing walls.”
“You think?” I make a face. “Not my style, baby, but carry on.”
“You are a loner, a ghost in fact, and you hate to admit that underneath the savage exterior lies a heart of pure gold. You see that as a sign of weakness and do everything in your power to avoid facing up to that.”
She cocks her head on one side and says thoughtfully, “You spend your days sleeping or trailing after your next victim and you strike at night. Then you move on to the next town and try to persuade yourself that you are living your best life when all you really want is to be loved.”
I turn away and want to smash something. What started as a cute game has ended badly—for me.
As the rage boils the pain, I clench my fists and say gruffly, “Time for bed, princess.”
She pulls back and the concern in her expression makes me snap. “I’d leave now if I were you.”
“Did I …”
“Now, princess.”
The warning in my voice is obviously doing a great job because she slides off the bike and says hesitantly, “I’m sorry if I–”
“Goodnight, princess.”
I flick on the ignition and jerk my head in the direction of her electric gates.
“I’ll watch you head inside.”
She nods, the light–hearted banter gone as quickly as it came, and as she flicks the switch on her bleeper, the gate moves open.
I say nothing as I watch her head through the gate, a slight figure dripping in rejection.
Just the way I always leave them and probably always will.
CHAPTER 8
MELISSA
Iwake the next morning with a sinking feeling inside. What happened last night?
It was the strangest one of my life and I’m still processing what happened at the end of it.
