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“Are you ready to forgive me yet?”
I scoff. “No.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder, touching me with his hands for the first time in a week. A spark of electricity goes through me at the contact and turns to liquid heat that pools in my stomach.
If he feels it too, he doesn’t comment on it.
He turns me around so I face him. “Why not?”
It’s the first time he asks a follow up question and doesn’t immediately leave after asking me if I’m ready to forgive him.
“We’re going around in circles and I can’t keep having this same conversation.” I say with a frustrated sigh, “I’m not going to forgive you for what you did.”
“Come on, Silver. There has to be something I can do.”
I don’t know why he can’t understand that what he did was unforgivable in my eyes.
“There isn’t. Not only did you make a bet that you could fuck me, but you made it formoney.” I spit out. “Devlin told me about that too.”
His eyes darken dangerously at my words. “There’s still time for me to kill him.”
“Stop.” I say, my brow furrowed. “You don’t even need the money, you’re rich enough as is. Was it purely greed? Is that why you did it?” I ask, taunting him.
But behind my flippant tone is a real need to know, to make sense of why he’d do this. To understand just how little I meant to him.
Anger slithers into his gaze as he looks at me, his jaw working furiously. “I didn’t fuck you for money.”
I shake my head disgustedly, somehow even more disappointed. “You’re lying again.”
“I gave that money away, Silver.” His voice cracks out like a whip, freezing me in place. “Long before you found out about this bet. The same day Devlin gave it to me, actually.”
I blink a couple of times, surprised. That’s the last thing I expected him to say. “Who did you give it to?”
“A girls’ youth football club in London.”
My heart flutters and I want to cry. “Why did you do that?”
“I remembered talking about the lack of opportunities girls have when it comes to football and how it was important to you. It felt like the right thing to do with money I never wanted anyway.”
I bow my head as a tear crests past my eyelid and falls down my cheek. His hand reaches out to tip my chin towards him, the thumb of his other hand coming to brush the tear away.
“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, his beautiful voice hoarse, “it fucking kills me when you cry.”
“I want to believe you, I do. I just don’t know if I can ever get there.”
He uses the thumb of the hand on my chin to rub comforting circles on my skin. “You’re everything to me, Thayer. The only thing that matters. If words won’t work, what can I do?”
“Nothing,” I say, pulling my chin out of his hold, “Not unless you can turn back time and take us back to before you made the bet. To see if you would have still chased me if you hadn’t had a competition with your friends.”
“I can’t do that but believe me, if I could, I would. I’d go back in time and I’d punch Devlin in the face and I’d still want you. I’d still come after you.” He cups my nape possessively. “I’d still fall in love with you. That was always inevitable.”
My eyes snap to his as my stomach clenches. “I told you not to say those words to me.”
Inside, there’s a whirlwind of chaos and confusion. When we were dating and I was feeling myself start to fall in love with him, I’d dreamed of hearing him say those words. Of being the one who managed to get through to him and bring his guard down. Of being the one who made him risk loving someone when he was desperate not to.
It’s so bittersweet now that it’s reality. On the one hand, I love him. From the bottom of my heart I love this man, in a way that borders on insanity. I want us to run off into the sunset together and live happily ever after.
On the other hand, how do I know if this is real and not another ploy for some purpose or game I’m not yet aware of? Do I believe him? Do I take the leap and trust him?
