“I told you, you took something from me. We never got to talk about that.”
She goes still and slightly white. Her teeth bite into her lip and she looks at the curtains. “What is it you think I took from you?” Her voice is thin, almost inaudible.
I go on full alert. Her reaction is muted now, but I can’t help but think of the way she freaked out in Chiang Mai. She’s definitely done something she’s afraid I’ll find out about.
Unease knots my gut.
Focus on what I want first. If I get that, I’ll have the opportunity to figure it out.
“Half a year,” I state firmly.
“What?” She turns toward me, dropping her hands in her lap. “How did I steal half a—”
“No. I want half a year. With you. Twenty-four weeks.”
“And just exactly how did you arrive at that number?”
“A week for each month you stayed away.”
She snorts. “Perhaps you should ask your brother to stay with you for twenty-four weeks.”
This again. Now I’m glad I had that call. “I already spoke with Blake.”
“Oh?” Her eyes are sharper now. “And?”
“He said he didn’t do anything to you.”
Chapter Ten
Ava
I glare at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I trust him. It’s not his style to interfere in relationships.”
“Of course! Why would you ever doubt your awesome brother? Let’s doubt the gold digger.”
Lucas inhales sharply. “I never considered you a gold digger. You know that.”
“Right. That’s why you kept showering me with money and gifts…and a freaking Lexus. Because I’m not a gold digger.”
“I gave you those things because I wanted to help. And you needed a new car anyway. That rattrap you were driving was a time bomb.”
My mouth twists at the familiar argument. The beat-up, dilapidated Nissan, as far as Lucas was concerned, was going to give out on some deserted road frequented only by serial killers and rapists. I give a sudden and theatrical mock-gasp, as though I just recalled something, and cover my mouth with a hand. “Oh, and I forgot. I’m also supposed to be your mistake!”
And a dumb one too from the way liquid heat lingers in my veins. God. How can I still respond to Lucas like that? My body should know better.
“Ava,” he growls out my name in a warning. “I’ve never said you were a mistake.”
The old mortification surges, and I feel my cheeks and chest heat. “Not to my face, you didn’t. So what? You think saying that crap behind my back makes it better?”
His mouth parts. “I didn’t—”
“If you didn’t talk about me as a mistake or a gold digger, why did your brother call me those things the moment we met? How did he get that impression?”
“I already told you I spoke with him, and he said he doesn’t remember saying anything of the sort. You’re mistaken.”
I stare at him. He’s so, so earnest, his gaze direct and steady. This is how he was able to get me to succumb to him in the first place. I couldn’t turn him down when he looked at me like that, like he meant every syllable.