Page 28 of Playboy’s Purgatory

I roll my eyes and wonder if she’s fucking for real right now.

“The only reason you were able to get me to buy into your bullshit was because I felt sorry for you,” my tone is neutral because the words themselves are cruel enough. “You reminded me of my mom.”

Nothing changes on her face; she’s not surprised. Of course she’s not.

“She was a club whore who wanted a patch, too,” I deadpan. “Her problem was that she chased her next high like it was nirvana. If that was her problem,” I tilt my head to the side, studying her, “what’s yours?”

Lola stays silent, but I can see her mind trying to find an angle to work.

“I wonder if you heard about my mommy issues,” there’s no levity in my tone, only steel, “and it’s why you thought I’d make an easy mark.”

I smirk, the challenge written clear on my face for her to deny it. She presses her lips together instead.

Smart.

Well, smart-ish.

“You better be grateful that I’m not going after your place here, at least not yet,” the warning is clear in my voice. “I judged Lara out of misplaced spite.”

“No,” she tries one more time, “you want me.”

I snort out a laugh which has her turning red with anger. “I don’t want you,” scorn fills my voice. I shake my head, disbelief tinging the edges of my words, “I might have treated Lara badly out of spite, but I wanted her from the moment I saw her. I never wanted you. Not once.”

The words land.

Lola recoils and looks at me with genuine disbelief.

Did she really think I felt something for her? I never touched her, never reached for her, never pulled her closer.

I don’t say anything else. What else could I even try to say?

Lola swallows hard before her lips part and close a few times. Eventually, she decides to keep her mouth shut and slinks away.

I don’t watch her leave because I don’t care.

My gaze is fixed on the wood of the bar. I take a few deep breaths while trying to push my anger and self-loathing down. Now isn’t the time and it won’t do me any good.

I need a plan.

A really fucking good plan.

Opal’s right, flowers are weak. But I had to start somewhere and at least they’re pretty. Maybe that’ll count for something.

Something small, but something all the same.

When I look up, Opal is standing there staring at me. Her eyes are big and round. My neck turns hot. Way too fucking hot. I rub the skin there and look away.

“I just said it to piss her off,” not playing completely dumb; only slightly.

The flat look she gives me tells me exactly what she thinks of my attempt at deflecting. Yeah, it wasn’t graceful; I can admit it.

She leans over the bar and looks directly in my eyes. “Are you just interested in taking Lara to bed or is it more?”

“I’m not going to lie, I’m attracted to her,” I speak slowly, picking my words carefully.

“That’s not what I asked you,” she pushes.

I’m aware. I’m just not sure how to answer her question.