Page 108 of The Bad Girl

Chapter 37

Maxwell

“You’re a bloody idiot!” Harry says, throwing the stack of papers he was holding into the air and letting them fall.

“Why must you use British English explicits?”

“I’ve been reading too many medieval romances, but back to my point. You dumbass! Is that American enough for you?”

“Didn’t you tell me I needed to let things play out with Tom?” I shout. “And pick up the contracts you just threw!”

“That was before, when I thought you were still full of boat lust. If you like her so much that you’re envisioning having children with her—it’s serious, and if I may be so bold, it’s worth sticking your neck out for.”

“Boat lust?”

“Yeah, the rush of hormones you inevitably had during captivity. I figured it was the only way you could actually get the job done with Nadine, her being so boring and all.”

“And now you think it’s not the confinement? But that still doesn’t take away Tom. She likes him.”

“While I do think this whole Tom business needs time to play out, that doesn’t mean that you should necessarily take yourself out of the equation entirely. If this is serious, if you’re serious—she deserves to know her options.”

“I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation with you of all people. When have you ever cared about‘serious’? This isn’t like you.”

“Then I guess you don’t know me all that well.”

“I think I know you pretty well, better than almost anyone. Since when do you care about love and babies? When have you ever so much as seen the same guy twice?”

“Maxwell, this might come as a shock to you, but not all gay men are whores.”

“And I never thought that, but you…” I raise my eyebrows for emphasis.

“If you had paid more attention, maybe you would have realized that I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic.”

“Seriously? Because there is a revolving door of ‘visitors’ you like to entertain at your apartment.”

“Jokes on you, because it’s not very often that I actually sleep with one.”

I arc a brow. “Then what the hell do you do with them? Play Scrabble?”

Harry frowns, twitching his nose to the side. “You know, Nadine wasn’t the only do-gooder. When I was exiled from my family, I hit the rave scene quite hard, learned a lot, started to figure myself out. But as with every club scene, I saw a lot of things I didn’t like. Drugs, people being taken advantage of, lots of hate. One night, I left a club to get a breath of fresh air, and I witnessed a kid getting shaken in the alley outside. I shouted loudly, pretending I was directing the cops where to go, and the aggressor booked it. I wanted to take the victim to the hospital, but the fear in his eyes told me that he’d rather die than let anyone know what he was up to. So I took him home.”

“You took him home?”

“He rested the night, we had a talk, and I sent him on his way.”

I stare at Harry, slack-jawed, unable to comprehend what he’s telling me.

“Now, when I hit up the clubs, I try to spot those I feel might be taken advantage of. Most of my friends come from those nights. We look out for one another.”

Guilt needles my gut, and I feel like I’m about to be sick. It’s not often I misjudge someone, and it appears I’ve misjudged Harry in the worst possible way.

“That’s a lot to take in. God, it’s like I don’t even fucking know you. I’m sorry. I’m so in awe of what you are doing.”

“Honestly, if my parents hadn’t disowned me, I’d be a little fucktwit asshole. As much as I begrudge being disinherited, it saved me from myself.”

“I really admire you.”

“Enough about me, this is about you and Nadine.”