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“I… got tired of hiding what we were to each other. And a little freaked out by how I was feeling.”

I stared at him, not sure what to make of his answer.

“I’m going to get you guys an apartment.”

“No, Clay.”

“I am! And I’m going to pay your tuition next year.”

Fuck, my tuition. I hadn’t even thought of that. I shook my head vehemently.

“Clay, you can’t. I have to do this for myself. Besides, I’m not your fucking mistress.”

He stared at me.

“So, you knew?”

“Knew what?”

“Nothing.”

He pushed away and rubbed his hands over his face. I followed him, forcing him to look at me.

“Knew what, Clay?”

He lifted his head and stared at me. And I realized I did know. I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“About our parents having an affair.”

I shook my head, trying to deny it.

“No. No, my mom wouldn’t do that.”

“She did Nev. Why do you think Claire was so pissed? It wasn’t you. It was them.”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling ill. He reached for me.

“I think he loves her, if it makes any difference. But he’s too weak to do anything about it.” His jaw clenched as his hand closed over my wrist. “But I’m not.”

I stepped back, shaking my head.

“I can’t do this now Clay. I have to go pack. I need to – get out of here.”

He grabbed me again, pulling me into his arms.

“Nothing changes the way I feel about you. You’re mine, Nev.”

I shoved against his chest.

“No, I’m not yours. You proved that this morning. I was just another uninvited guest. Leave me alone. Don’t you think you’ve done enough already?”

He followed me back to the car. It was packed. My mom was already in the driver’s seat.

Her eyes looked so sad as she watched me storm over to the car and climb in.

“Nev!”

I didn’t stop, just slammed the door behind me. I put on my seatbelt, staring straight ahead. I glanced to the side and saw him in the side view mirror. He just stood there, watching us drive away.

I forced myself to look away. I stared straight ahead, barely noticing my surroundings. The familiar tree lined driveway curved gracefully through the property. Everything was lush, green and manicured. It had been a beautiful place to grow up in.

But now I was well and truly grown.

I doubted I’d ever be at Westfield’s estate again. It had been my home for almost ten years. I realized this was it. I would probably never see it again.

Or Clay.

And that hurt most of all.

Chapter Thirty-One

Clay

I rang the doorbell of the huge victorian. It had a wrap around porch and was twice the size of the average house. A rich person house to be sure.

But quiet. Weirdly quiet and almost too neat. Almost like a museum.

Each detail of the house was immaculately painted in a different shade of blue. The effect was charming to most people. For some reason though, it made me sad.

Every fucking thing made me sad these days.

It had been four days since I saw Nev. She hadn’t been at the club or in town. She sure as shit wasn’t staying in one of the fancy B&B’s or boutique hotels. That left the no tell motels that every town in the country had.

Dirty, ugly little places that people went to have affairs.

I knew she was at one of them, just not which one.

I was losing my mind, imagining all sorts of horrible things happening to Nev.

Or, worse yet, that she hated me. Which she almost certainly did. I was starting to lose hope, drinking myself into oblivion every night.

And then I’d remembered. To get to Nev, you go through Frannie.

So here I was.

I rang the buzzer again. Finally, I heard footsteps. An elderly maid answered the door.

“Hi. I’m looking for Frannie.”

She stared at me as if I was a mirage. I guess Frannie didn’t have a lot of guys dropping by. For some reason, that thought made me sad too.

The maid nodded and pointed around the side of the house.

“Miss Frannie is in the green house out back.”

I thanked her and took off at a trot.

The landscape was very lush and traditional. Off to the side of the enormous rolling lawn was a greenhouse. I headed for it.

I kept thinking ‘Nev must have come here a lot growing up’.

I was suddenly grateful that she had a friend like Frannie. That she’d had someplace else to go.

I wonder if she preferred it to Westfield.

I could see a girl inside the ornate glass structure. The frizzy brown hair piled high on her head was noticeable even from here. I headed for her, silently opening the door.

“Frannie.”

She looked up from what she was doing. Spritzing a plant it looked like. How many college girls gave a shit about – what was that thing anyway?

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