Page 21 of Beyond Question

“Forty-two, Paige. Big fucking deal.” He crosses his arms, eyes glinting with anger. “Next excuse?”

My jaw tightens and I lift my chin. “Why? Why do you want this so badly?”

“This?” Travis drops his hands to his sides and closes the distance between us. I suck in a breath, but he still doesn’t touch me. “Do you want me to list all the reasons I want to spend time with you? Will that change your mind about me?”

“No,” I whisper.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Didn’t think so.”

“I’m sorry. Please understand.”

“I don’t. Idon’tunderstand.”

Nodding slowly, I turn away from him as a silver sedan pulls to a stop at the curb and my phone beeps to alert me that my ridehas arrived. I open the door and look back at Travis. “Goodnight, Travis.”

Then I climb in and close the door, ignoring both the hurt in his eyes and the ache in my chest.

There’s nothing left to say and nothing that can happen between us. We spent one day together.One.And while it was fun, that’s all it will ever be.

Chapter Eight

Travis

Nearly a week has passed since Paige drove away from Just the Place, leaving me standing on the curb with a goodnight that sounded a lot like goodbye.

Normally, I’d be over the rejection by now.Overher andundersomeone else, you know? But there’s nothingnormalabout how I feel and certainly nothingnormalabout Paige Matthews.

I can’t fucking think straight, and the stack of paperwork on my desk that’s been sitting here all week is proof that my mind is elsewhere.

Cabot stands in my doorway, staring at me silently, the menace.

“Fucking say it, man.” I motion toward him.

“This can’t possibly be over a woman.”

I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “No, of course not.”

His frown lines deepen. “You’ve never been able to lie to me, Wilder.” He steps into my office and sits down across from me. “I told you—”

“Don’t do that.” I shake my head. “Don’t pull the ‘I told you so’ shit with me.”

He shrugs. “It’s not you.”

I wave my hand toward him. “Stop. Don’t go there.” Such a simple phrase,‘it’s not you’,but it packs a punch. Because itisme. If it wasn’tme, she wouldn’t have blownmeoff.‘It’s not you’is a fucking placating line of bullshit and I don’t want to hear it. Especially not from my best friend.

“She has this weird hangup about men with power and money.”

I scoff, throwing my hands into the air. “What does that even mean? I’m not some evil mastermind, and my fucking bank account doesn’t define me.”

“No. AndIknow that. Butshedoesn’t. She doesn’t know you from Adam.” He pauses, then adds, “Or guys like Wellington and Rombauer.”

I breathe deeply because he’s just shed light on the issue, hasn’t he? I’m nothing like those guys, but all she sees is my bloodline. My name. In her eyes, I’m part of the good ol’ boys club, the wealthy assholes that will inherit the earth. A man no better than the one who came before me or the one before him.

A legacy. A goddamn Wilder.

“So I just have to prove to her I’m not like them.”

“How?”