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Corinne’s gasp has me whirling back. She’s visibly shaken. “What do you want me to say? I’m doing what makes the most sense. You’re ambitious, and I know how meaningful your ventures with your family are. I can’t stand the thought that I’ve jeopardized—”
“But this is the part where I fuck off? I’ve been there and done that. But don’t pretend this isn’t about you.” I prowl closer, relishing the way she backs up until she hits the counter behind her. “Are you getting back together with him, too? Did you spend last night in his bed?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Sure it’s not. But hey, I got the consolation prize of your V-card, so I got revenge and a little extra something on the side. I should be grateful, right?”
The rational part of my brain tells me I’m fucking up everything. I can’t assume the worst, then attack her for it. The enraged part doesn’t give a shit about anything except burning everything to the ground. I hurt, so she should, too. Never mind that she probably already does after being called some of the most demeaning names on the internet and derided for her sexuality.
Weren’t you the one who insisted on getting her off in public?
Yeah. And the blowback sucks. But I didn’t think she’d throw in the towel and leave me because of it.
I feel so fucking empty without her.
“That’s disgusting. You don’t need to slam me. I’m not Hadley.”
Yes, she is, only worse. Because I actually love her. In retrospect, I glommed onto Hadley because, for once, I could be not just a driven, too-smart-for-his-own-good fukboi, but a partner. A hero. A savior. The fact that Hadley had a banging body was a bonus. Her drive to succeed made her feel like a kindred spirit.
Corinne has all those same qualities—but she’s more. She’s soft and good and kind. She’s sensitive to others’ feelings. She tries to help and placate and make the world a better place. I admire the hell out of her for it. I want that sunshine in my life, filling my heart.
Of course, none of her virtues apply to me. Why should they? I’m the third-born bastard of a criminal the world branded a sociopath. I’m stuck in that shadow. My brief brush with happiness and light has been snatched away, leaving me in darkness once more.
It reinforces the fact that no woman actually wants me for me. Once Corinne got a few orgasms and her ex’s attention, she didn’t need me anymore, so she sayonara’d off. And I feel fucking blindsided. Like a fool, I never saw her goodbye coming.
“Answer the question,” I snap. “Did you fuck him?”
“No.”
The relief I want to feel doesn’t come. “Are you going to marry him?”
She hesitates. “He wants to get back together. Seeing me with you made him realize that breaking things off with me was a mistake.”
“Isn’t that convenient?”
She sends me a shaky sigh. “Please don’t make this harder. The loan is contingent on me severing all ties with you.”
That sends my already stratospheric temper into outer space.
“Where is that motherfucker?” I snarl.
“Confronting him won’t solve anything. This is a sensible solution that allows you to cut me loose, get back to your job and your pending ventures with your family, and go on with the life you had before I messed everything up.”
Fuck that. I don’t want what I had before. I want what I felt when Corinne was mine.
But she’s telling me in every way possible—politely, of course—that I need to stop holding on to us. For her, we were never real.
“Yeah. Fine. I’ll do that.” I shoulder my way past her and head for the liquor cabinet in my living room. “Get your stuff and go.”
“Wait.” She wraps her fingers around my arm, her touch like fire. It stops me in my tracks. “Xavian…”
I’m afraid to turn back to her. Inside, I’m an incendiary mix of agony and rage, underpinned by a sickening feeling that history is repeating itself, only worse. “What?”
“I’m not sure why you’re angry with me. I’m releasing you from this agreement that messed up your life so terribly. Don’t you get it? If we break up publicly and I return to LA, you can issue an apology. I’ll do the same, and I’ll start taking the steps to grow my business. I’ll focus all my social media on that. You can focus yours on business, on family, and on your”—she drags in a shaking breath—“social life. Just like you did before.”
Fuck hiding my hurt. Maybe Corinne needs to see it, even if she thinks I’m a pussy. Even if she makes fun of me for getting my feelings hurt. Even if she doesn’t give a single shit. “You mean when I fucked a different woman nearly every night because I didn’t think any one of them would ever want me for more? Because I was so goddamn lonely that I talked myself into believing that someone touching me, even if they didn’t know my name, was better than no one touching me at all?”
