He didn’t show me an ounce of affection.
Maybe I really did mean nothing to him.
He took another drink of his scotch and rose to his feet. “How can I help you, Monroe?” He stared at me with indifference, like I was insignificant to him. He stepped closer to me but kept his arms by his sides. Muscular and gorgeous, he was exactly the same as he’d been two weeks ago, but now he was ice cold.
“How can you help me?” I whispered back. “You could start by explaining why you never called me back.”
“I’m not obligated to call you back.”
I couldn’t keep the shock off my face. The last time we were together, he kissed me between my legs then hopped in the shower. Now he behaved like that never happened. “What if I needed help?”
“Not my problem.”
“Wow…you really are an asshole.”
He didn’t flinch at the insult. “Monroe, I told you what this was. I told you there was only one thing I wanted. When I got it, this would be over. I enjoyed the chase, but once I claimed my reward, that was it.”
I refused to cry in front of him, to let him know how much he hurt me. It took all my strength, but I managed to pull it off. I was able to bottle all my hurt deep inside until I finally left his penthouse. “We have something, Slate. We both know it.”
“Friendship and lust.”
“No, something more than that.”
“Well, that feeling isn’t mutual.” His brown eyes were aflame like two burning fires.
“You hadn’t been with anyone else—”
“You’re reading too much into that. I like to focus on one woman at a time.”
“And take them to dinner?” I asked incredulously. “Cook for them? Pay them double? That was out of the ordinary.”
“But it doesn’t mean anything,” he said simply. “The more you resisted me, the more I wanted you. End of story.”
“Have you been with anyone else since?” There was only one answer I wanted to hear. If he gave the one I didn’t want, I’d struggle to keep my emotions together.
“That’s none of your business.”
“So, no.” I couldn’t keep the victory out of my voice. “Why are you fighting this?”
“I’m not fighting anything, Monroe. I don’t want anything more to do with you.”
I shook my head in disappointment. “I always thought you were a strong man, and strong men aren’t afraid to say how they feel. You’re running away like a damn pussy. I thought you were better than that.”
His eyes narrowed with a hint of fire. “Get out, Monroe.”
“You’re really going to just throw us away?”
“We were never anything to throw away. I paid for your virginity, and that’s the end of the relationship. Now, leave.” He turned his back to me and grabbed the decanter of scotch. He refilled his glass and threw his head back and drank.
“Fine. If you want to sit here and drink all by yourself, then have a good time. If you want to give up on people and relationships, so be it. If you’re too scared to actually live your life…then that’s your problem. Don’t expect me to wait around until you change your mind. Because I’m not the kind of woman that waits around for any man—including you.”
After shedding a few tears during the walk, I ended up in a bar close to Slate’s building. The place was fairly quiet because it was a Wednesday night. Friends sat together in booths, and couples shared a drink at the tables. I was one of the few people at the actual bar, but I didn’t want company, so that was fine with me.
I ordered a scotch. It tasted like smoke and burned my throat, but I needed something stronger than wine. The extra cash in my account seemed tainted, so I wanted to piss it away on my sorrow. I’d sold myself to a man who never cared about me, and I was an idiot for thinking he ever did.
How could I be so naïve?
Maybe he was lying about his feelings now, but did it really matter if he was?
He refused to let himself want me.
It was just as bad as not caring.
I thought I’d just sold my virginity to him, but now I wondered if I’d sold my heart as well.
A man moved onto the stool beside me, a scotch in his hand. “You don’t see beautiful women order scotch too often.”
I turned to look at the man who joined me, a young and handsome guy in a suit. He seemed like a big shot like Slate because he had a fancy watch on his wrist, wore expensive cologne, and carried himself like he was important. “I don’t usually drink scotch…only when I’m having a bad day.”
“What kind of bad day are you having? Like…you just broke up with your boyfriend kind of bad day?” He leaned toward the counter and grinned.