“That’s not true, Monroe.”
“Then what is true?” she countered. “If you want me, then prove it. Give me something real. I’m not asking for forever, just something. Give me a relationship, monogamy, dates…normal stuff.”
The second I did that, I would be back in the situation I was in before. I would be at the mercy of a woman. She could betray me the way Simone betrayed me—and I would be even more bitter. I didn’t care about giving up the women I would fuck. I cared about giving up myself, trusting someone in a way I hadn’t in five years.
When I didn’t respond, her eyes narrowed in disapproval. “I’m not her, Slate. I would never betray you.”
“You don’t think she said the same thing to me?”
“But you know me. Give me more credit than that.”
“I thought I knew my brother, someone I’ve known my entire life. We’re of the same blood—and he had no problem stabbing me in the back.”
Her anger disappeared altogether, and now she showed her deep sadness. “Don’t let them have this much power over you, Slate. Don’t let them destroy your future. Don’t let them ruin you like this. They were assholes, but I can promise you, not everyone is an asshole.”
I wanted to believe her, but I couldn’t stand the idea of her having any power over me. My brother owned half the company, and he might drag it into ruin because of his stupidity. People couldn’t be trusted.
“Slate.”
I leaned over the table and held her gaze.
“I didn’t like you at first. You were so cold and brutal. But then I got to know you…and I really liked the man underneath that hard exterior. I looked forward to seeing you every day, and the night we were together, I wasn’t scared at all. I felt closer to you, wanted more of you. You became my friend, my lover, and the person I trusted most. I say all of this because…I still feel that way. I’m angry at you for the way you treated me, but if you wanted to be with me, really be with me, I would give it a try. But if you can’t offer that…then I have no reason to stay.”
I shouldn’t have expected a different response. She might want me, but not enough to deny herself what she deserved. I wasn’t happy with her decision, but I respected it.
“So, can you not offer that?”
I didn’t want to give the answer that would end this for good. I would have to forget about her, try not to think about where she was sleeping at night. Sometimes I wondered if I could try to make a relationship work, if I could take it one step at a time, but I knew I would only waste her time. “No.”
20
Monroe
When he rejected me a second time, it hurt just as much as the first time.
Slate wanted me, but not enough to trust me.
Simone and Coen really messed him up, made it impossible for him to trust anyone. I was harmless, but he viewed me as a criminal. All his walls were up, and he wouldn’t even let me get close enough to scale them.
A part of me wanted to try anyway, to take it slow until he learned to trust me, but if he wasn’t willing to compromise with me, why should I compromise with him? He could push me away at any time, and I would have to start all over.
And heal my broken heart.
Wyatt had never asked about Slate, even after the awkward run-in at the office. Our relationship was still casual. We hadn’t even slept together. We went on dates, made out on the couch, and then I went home.
It seemed too soon to sleep with someone else.
Wyatt seemed to understand that, so he never pushed me. He might be seeing someone else while he saw me, so he was still getting action. But since we weren’t exclusive, it didn’t bother me. It also didn’t bother me because I was still hung up on Slate.
I would be hung up on him for a while.
Wyatt and I met up for lunch a few days later. We split a pizza and had a few sodas. The nice thing about Wyatt was he didn’t order a salad every time we went out to eat. He ate real food like a normal person—and still kept up his physique. I hadn’t seen him shirtless yet, but I imagined Slate was a lot more ripped because he was religious about his food choices.
Wyatt finished his slice then wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Is Slate Remington the guy you slept with?”
I wasn’t allowed to confide that information to someone else, but I felt awkward lying to him about who I slept with. I was torn in two, unsure what kind of answer I should give. “You know…I can’t really talk about him.”