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“Buying a person.”
She stopped moving and looked at him. The shift from who he’d been in bed to the stranger standing in front of her had required less effort than a deep breath. “You didn’t buy ‘a person.’ You bought a body.” She didn’t want to be either to him, a person or a body. She wanted to be Lola—the girl he’d seduced over darts, the image that would soothe him on his deathbed. “There’s a difference.”
“I’m not debating this with you again. There’s no difference.”
He was so smug, without any trace of the Beau she’d gotten to know. He should’ve used her like he’d said he would. No talk of family, of possibility. Of her in his life. Anything more than using her body was a kind of cruel that went beyond the boundaries of normalcy. “I hate you,” she said. It had come out slippery and unintentional, but she didn’t take it back. In that moment, it was true.
“Fine,” he said. “But I bought you fair and square. Say it.”
“You did not,” she said. “I am not my body. I am feelings, a brain, a heart. There’s so much more to me than what you got.”
Beau was gripping his hips so hard, his knuckles were white. She looked away and buttoned her jeans, trying to hide the fact that he’d hurt her.
“You can’t just change the terms of an agreement, Lola. Business doesn’t work that way.”
“This isn’t business,” she said. “I’m a human being. I didn’t sign over my heart to you. You have no right to say you owned anything other than my body.”
“Are you saying none of it was real? That your heart wasn’t in it?”
“It was real for me, Beau. But it takes a lot goddamn more to earn someone’s heart. You can’t expect that in one night, and you damn well can’t demand it.”
“Enough,” he snapped. “Now would be a good time to shut your mouth.”
She didn’t. It fell wide open. “Beau—”
“Just—” He held up both his hands. “Stop. Stop talking.”
She grabbed her purse from the bed. “I’m ready,” she said, flipping him off as she stormed by him.
They rode the elevator down in silence. When the doors opened, she practically ran outside. It didn’t matter. Beau and his long strides were never far behind. She went straight to where Warner waited against a town car.
“I can go alone,” she said over her shoulder, knowing Beau would be there.
“I’m coming.”
“I don’t see why you have to.”
He ignored her. “Warner,” he said. “Don’t waste any time.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lola opened the car door herself even though Beau reached for it. She ducked inside and slid as far away as she could get from him.
“Lola.”
“Don’t talk to me.” Her voice threatened to quiver, but she forced it steady. “You’re a fucking bastard.”
He sighed. “You’re right. I’m a bastard and an asshole. Such an asshole. I didn’t mean what I said up there. I’m sorry.”
She jerked her head to him. The words, in their apologetic, defeated tone, sounded wrong coming out of his mouth.
His eyebrows were drawn. “I mean it. I don’t know what came over me.” He made a face when he swallowed that made him look as if he was in pain. “Lola, you have to understand. This isn’t easy for me. We shouldn’t have to say goodbye like this. We shouldn’t have to say goodbye at all.”
Lola’s fists uncurled a little. It was all so confusing, except for the fact that she wasn’t ready to say goodbye either. Not even when he was an asshole. “I think I understand. Walking away is easier if we’re both angry.”
“I don’t want to end things this way.”
“You were pushing me away.”
“If you were smart,” he said quietly, “you’d let me.”
She looked back out the window. “It doesn’t matter. This is the end, anyway.”
“Not yet. Come back to me, even just for our last few minutes.”
It truly was the end. The horizon was orange. She could be what Beau so obviously needed for a few more minutes. At least she had someone waiting at home for her. She turned back and moved across the seat as he angled to face her. “I never expected it to be this good.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb, cupping her jaw. “For you to be so beautiful. For this to feel so right.” He paused. “For it to be so hard to say goodbye.”
Her breath hitched. She took his wrist with both her hands, overcome with need to give him the truth. “If we’d met earlier, Beau, or if our circumstances were different, I know I could’ve—”
“Stay another night.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Don’t go.”
“I can’t,” she said, shaking her head. She removed her hands and held them to her chest. Fantasizing that he’d ask her to stay and experiencing it were two different things. Even if she wanted to with every fiber of her being, which she didn’t, because she loved Johnny—she couldn’t. It was ridiculous. “You’re not serious. No. I can’t.”
“Would you do it if I didn’t pay you?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then I’ll pay. He gets his money, and I get you. One more night.”
