Page 87

Forty-five
Henley
We’re halfway to Boylston before he says anything. “Are you cold?” When I don’t answer, he reaches out and adjusts the heater vents, aiming one of them at me more directly. “Sorry. I don’t have seat warmers.”
It doesn’t sound like a snipe. It sounds like a genuine apology. Like he’s really sorry for something I couldn’t care less about.
“Why do you think I give a shit about seat warmers?” I snap at him, reaching for the vent he pointed at me to slap it closed.
“I’m just trying to make sure you’re comfortable.” Again, he sounds genuine. Confused, like he doesn’t understand why I’m upset. When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “I’m trying here, Henley.”
I don’t have to ask him what he means. I know. I understand. He’s trying to give me what I want. Trying to figure me out. Be the person he thinks I want him to be. The problem is what I want and what I can have are two different things.
“You want to tell me what happened tonight?” he says, his tone casual. Easy. Like the past thirty minutes didn’t happen. Like he didn’t just have me naked. Pinned against the sinks in a bar bathroom, his fingers and mouth caressing my slick, tender flesh. Making me come so hard and loud everyone in the place probably heard me. It’s what he does. How he deals. He pretends none of it matters.
I have the irrational urge to jump out of the car.
When I don’t answer he elaborates. “With Declan and Tess—why she was half-naked, all up on some college bro’s jock.”
Tess.
He’s asking about Tess.
“I’m not really sure.” I shrug. “We were at my place getting chocolate-wasted and she suddenly decided she wanted to go to Gilroy’s.”
“And?”
“And nothing.” I shift my gaze toward him. He’s looking straight ahead. “We got dressed up and went to Gilroy’s.”
“Okay.” I watch his jaw clench like I’m holding out on him somehow.
“I don’t know what you’re asking me.” Yes, I do, I just don’t want to tell him. I want to believe it’s because Tess is my friend and I don’t want to throw her under the bus but that’s not why. It’s the fact that he’s asking me about her. Because he cares about her. Worries about her.
What did you expect? She’s been there for him. She stuck around. She doesn’t treat him like her own personal sex toy. She loves him and isn’t afraid to let people know it.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath and start from the beginning. “Declan saw her talking to some guy and he lost it. I needed help diffusing the situation. I went to go find you but when I got to the bar, Logan told me—” My throat suddenly goes dry and I have to swallow hard to clear it. “He told me the last time he saw you, you were heading for the bathroom with a girl you’re your shoulder.”
His jaw tightens again. “So, you naturally assumed that I was on my way to the ladies to bend someone over the sink.”
Hearing him say it shames me all over again. “Well, I just—”
“Expected to catch me fucking someone else.” I watch his hands tighten around the steering wheel. His jaw goes tight again, flexing against the clench and grind of his teeth. “I realize I’m a walking trash pile with loose morals and questionable intentions, but I made you a promise, Henley and I intend to honor it.”
“Don’t say things like that.” The resignation in his voice kills me because I know I put it there. I did this to him. “You’re not trash. I neverthought that you were—”
“You offered to pay me for sex, Henley, and seemed surprised when I didn’t jump all over it like a monkey on a cupcake.” It comes out around a harsh laugh and he shakes his head. “Tell me again how you don’t think I’m trash.”
“That’s not…” I shake my head, mortified. “I never—” I stop talking, seeing the situation through his eyes. “Offering you money was never something I meant to do.” I aim my gaze out the window. Watch the warm of my breath puffs against the cold glass. “You were turning me down all over again and I—” Tried to buy you like a pair of shoes? Pay you like hired help?Bribe you into wanting you. “allowed my impulsivity get the better of me.”
“Impulsivity?” He laughs at me. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Look at things from my perspective.” I’m trying to remain calm. Still trying to think rationally. “You haven’t touched me in weeks. You’re not drinking. You’re not fighting and you’re not—”
“A gibbering idiot?”
“You haven’t touched me in weeks.” I yell it this time, the loud bark of my voice bouncing around the interior of the car. “You—” Goddamn it. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I assumed that meant you moved on.”
“Moved on?” He laughs at me. “Seriously? Have you heard a single, goddamned word I’ve said to you, ever?”