Billionaire's Escort - Page 483

“Daisy and I are back together.”

He looked at me, tight-lipped, and then gave the slightest of nods. “The two of you can’t seem to decide if you’re coming or going.”

“No help to you.”

I’d meant to say it as a joke, but it came out more like a challenge. He certainly took it that way, because he stopped what he was doing and stood up, came around his desk.

“You want to fight?” he said.

I almost started to laugh, but then I realized he was serious. “No,” I said. “I don’t want to fight you.” It would probably be a pretty fair fight, though. I was bigger than he was, but he had his martial arts training. But that’s not what I wanted to do. “I want to know why you did that, though.”

“Why I did what?”

“Why you leaked that information about Martin. You knew he’d flip out. Why would you try to sabotage us like that?”

“Us?” Jonathan laughed. “That’s a good one. There’s no us, Ian. This is your company. Yeah, I might play an integral part in running it, but it’s your company, and we both know that. But that’s just how it’s always been for you, isn’t it? Shit just always works out for you. I’m so NOT surprised to hear that you and Daisy are back together. Of course you’d end up with the girl that I really like! I haven’t liked someone like that in fucking ages, but who the hell ends up with her? You. Right. But I should have known. I should have known that it was foolish to get her a job here, and then to think that you’d actually talk to her for me. I should have known, because that’s what you’ve always done. Ever since I’ve known you, you basically just take whatever it is that I like and make it your own.”

“What are you talking about?” I said. “And listen, Jonathan. The whole thing with Daisy—I wasn’t planning for that to happen. I’m not with her solely because I know you like her. That would be a shitty thing to do. I’m with her because . . . well, because I love her. And I’ve never loved anyone like this before. This isn’t something that I can just ignore. I’m not doing this to try to hurt you, and I want you to know that.”

He could barely contain his eye roll. “Give me a fucking break.”

“It’s true.”

“Yes, well, again, I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, this has been going on ever since you showed up in my back yard with a bloody nose, like some fucking abandoned dog that didn’t have anywhere to go. Do you remember how my mother fucking babied you? It was disgusting. But you didn’t care. You just waltzed right in there and made yourself at home. You think I wanted you there all the time? You think I liked suddenly having this pseudo brother around, this kid that could do everything better than I could?”

“Um . . .”

But he wasn’t interested in hearing a single thing I had to say. “Remember how she took us to baseball tryouts when we were in sixth grade? How you didn’t even like baseball? You weren’t even interested in playing, but you went along with it because my mother was excited and thought that we both wanted to try out. So she goes out and gets you all the shit, the glove, the cleats, the fucking stirrups. And then we have tryouts, and who makes the fucking team? Do you even remember that?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I made the team. And you’re right—I didn’t want to play, but I did because your mother liked baseball so much.”

Jonathan shook his head. “Of course that’s what you’d remember. What you don’t remember is the fact that I tried out too, and I didn’t fucking make it!”

“You did?”

I tried to recall the memory of tryouts, but I couldn’t. Jonathan hadn’t been there though, had he? “I thought you didn’t even like baseball.”

“That’s what I started telling everyone after the fact, so it wouldn’t seem so pathetic. That here you were, the person who had probably never even picked up a bat, other than maybe a fucking whiffle ball bat, and you make the team, and I don’t. Do you know how many lawns I mowed and driveways I shoveled to earn enough money to buy my glove? But my mom just runs out and gets you one—before you even tried out! It was like she knew. I guess everyone just knows.”

“Jonathan.” I didn’t know what to say, though. I didn’t know if he was really telling me the truth, or if he was just making all this up in an attempt to make me feel bad. He wouldn’t even look at me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I really had no idea about all of that stuff. If I had known that you were so into baseball, then I wouldn’t have tried out! I just did it because your mom kept talking about it. If you had told me that you didn’t want me to try out, then I wouldn’t have.”

“I wanted you to try out,” he said after a minute.

“But—I thought you just said you didn’t—”

“No, I did, actually. I wanted you to try out, and I wanted to be the one to make the team, and you didn’t. Or we both made the team but I was a starter, and you weren’t. I just wanted to be better than you. I wanted you to know that there were some things that I could do better than you could, that you didn’t always get to the one who came out on top. And same with Daisy. I knew that you’d think she was hot, but I thought we really had this connection. And I thought it would just really tick you off if I got the girl and you didn’t.”

“Holy shit,” I said. “So you’re basically telling me your entire existence is to get back at me? I mean, it sounds like you really hate my fucking guts, Jonathan. How have you been able to stand the fact that we see each other all the time? That we work together?”

“It hasn’t always been easy,” he said. “And I don’t hate you, Ian. I don’t want you to think that. But no one has ever made me feel more . . . shitty and inferior about my life than you have, and you don’t even realize it. I guess I just wanted one thing to work out for me, and not for you. But that doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen after all.”

“Do you want to hit me?”

“Of course I want to fucking hit you.”

“Then go ahead.”

He gave me a suspicious look. “I thought you said you didn’t want to fight.”

Tags: Claire Adams Billionaire Romance
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