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My heart sinks.
He’s right.
“I’m starting to realize that you hardly ever put yourself first.”
I frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He steps back, shaking his head in disappointment.
“Well?” I urge him.
“You’re being well compensated for this arrangement. This isn’t all for nothing. You were in a shit place, and I gave you a way out. A golden fucking ticket.”
“And what, the money is supposed to make everything okay?”
“Sure, it is!”
“Like hell,” I retort. “You billionaires are ridiculous. Happiness can’t be bought. You aren’t the one without a family.”
“Oh,” he softly says. “That’s what this is about.”
“Don’t give me that.”
“Give you what?”
“I don’t need your pity,” I angrily breathe, pointing my finger against his chest.
His eyes flicker sincerity, the opposite of what I was expecting. “I would never pity you. I understand.”
He grabs my wrist, and stares deeply into my eyes.
I quickly step back, distancing myself. “You weren’t the one with your mother at dinner. You have no idea how I feel about any of this. Don’t act like you do.”
He laughs, with no humor intended. “Is that so?”
“I need some space.”
“No.”
“You don’t own me, Jaxon.”
He groans, grabbing my arm, tightly holding my bicep. “Don’t you fucking get it?”
Trying to break free from his grasp, I glare at him. “Get what?”
“I care about you.” Jaxon swiftly pulls me back to him, lifting my chin with his finger, ensuring complete and total eye contact. I practically melt beneath his touch. “Stay with me, Sasha.”
My breaths become uneven, and my stomach quivers. His tongue traces his bottom lip, and oh,fuck, his lips look so soft.
Shit.
“Oh, you’re good,” I slyly say, pulling away from him. “Reverse psychology.”
“Bullshit.”
I wave my hand at him dismissively. “I’m calling a taxi.”
“Fine. At least allow me to arrange for my driver to escort you.”
