Chapter 11
My heart stops, and when it starts up again, blood rushes through me in a tsunami. I struggle to remain on the bed. I want to run out the door, but being naked stops me from doing so. If this had happened the last time I saw him, I would have been utterly humiliated. Right now, though, all I feel is rage.
I tighten the sheets around me. There should be miles between us, oceans would be better. Right now, the only thing between us is this thin sheet, so I cling to it. “Get the fuck out!”
“No, I won’t be doing that just yet, thank you.”
“What are you doing here, Anderson?”
“You know what I’m doing here, June,” he says with that easy confidence that sets my teeth on edge.
He always had that confidence. Even when we were teenagers in prep school. Back then, he had bullied me into making my teenage years the most miserable they could possibly be. Picking on my frizzy hair, my ample curves, my name. June Devlin became June the Devil, Junior Mints, June bug, and one particularly mean day at lunch, Spoon, for how I was shoveling it in. Anything to make me feel less-than.
Everything Anderson West did, he did it to torture me. I was his favorite to pick on, and I couldn’t tell if it was because I was just that lucky or because I fought back. The other kids he picked on didn’t. But I couldn’t just sit there and take it.
And I’m not taking it today.
“What I know is you better leave right now, or I will call security to drag you out before my date gets here.”
He smirks and shakes his head before running his fingers through his thick, black hair. That smirk makes his bright blue eyes sparkle and a dimple on his cheek deepen. The bastard has grown into his looks—there is no denying that. His tux is missing a bowtie, his shirt open at his throat, framing his muscular neck. From his strong jaw to his athletic body, Anderson West is the quintessential handsome multimillionaire?—
Wait. No. He can’t be my bidder. Life can’t be that cruel. Can it?
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, June, but I am your winning bidder.”
The news is almost enough to get me out of the sheet, naked or not. I gulp and ask, “You’re East?”
He boyishly shrugs. “I’d worried such a pseudonym might give me away, but I was in a cheeky mood.”
“Why the fuck are you here, Anderson?”
“I bought you. For the night. I thought they explained what the auction was for?—”
“Don’t be a smart ass. Tell me why you really did it.”
His smirk still penetrates me. Just like when we were younger. He was this handsome, wealthy boy who I’d have had a crush on, had he not been an utter asshole back then. I always felt insufficient around him. Either I wasn’t pretty enough or rich enough to be in his presence.
There was the time he called me a loud breather—like I breathed wrong. What the fuck does that even mean? At the time, I merely asked, “Oh, like your mom?” and walked away.
Anderson shifts his weight. “Is it so unbelievable that I’d want to spend the night with you?”
“You weren’t funny back in the day, and you’re not funny now. Is that what this is? This is all just a big joke to you? Did you do this to point out how poor I am in comparison to you? To make fun of me for resorting to this?”
His lips smooth into a patient line, and he comes toward the bed, unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket. I curl my feet up from the end of the bed as he sits there. Taking up my space. Like he’s owed it. Screw that. I nudge him with my feet beneath the blanket, so he gets up, then moves to the other side and sits next to me.
This is worse. I shouldn’t have kicked him. He’d be further away if I hadn’t kicked him. Now he’s close enough for me to smell his oceany cologne.
“I didn’t do this to make fun of you in any way, June. Not at all.”
“Then why?” I blurt between gritted teeth.
“Would you believe me if I said I did it to spend time with you?”
A sharp cackle jumps out of my soul. “Would you believe me if I said there is a unicorn in the room with us right now?”
“I’ve missed that wit, June.”
“You know what, Anderson? I always knew you were a sadistic bastard, but this is a new low. Even for you.”
His rough voice purrs, “Even for me?”
“You are the guy who had his friend call the school to tell me my cat had died as a joke. So yeah, even for you, this is fucking low.”
“I am sorry for that, June. And for so much more. I?—”
“This isn’t the time for your confession, Anderson! Do you think I give a shit about your guilt? After everything you put me through?”
To his credit, he blinks and stays silent for a solid minute. “Probably not. But I won the auction to spend time with you. That’s real.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He takes a deep breath and forces it out in a huff. “I?—”
“What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He laughs and shakes his head at me. “You were always smarter.”
“And kinder.”
“No, not to me, you weren’t?—”
“You didn’t deserve kindness. You deserved wrath.”
“Yeah. I did.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “I earned whatever shit you gave me, June. And more. I was an asshole to you. A punk kid who didn’t understand?—”
“I. Don’t. Fucking. Care. Your excuses are just that. Excuses. You didn’t see anyone else being that awful to other people. Just you and that twerp who followed you around all the time?—”
“Tag.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Like that’s even his real name.”
“Oh, it is. Well, it’s his name, anyway.”
“Sure, whatever. You two were nightmare fuel for me for years. And then, to see you at college? It was like being stalked by my own personal bully. Because that’s what it was. So, to have you come in here and try to talk to me like you’re a human being now … no. Just no.”
“If—”
“Throwing your money around doesn’t get you my time. Not my forgiveness, either.”
He closes his eyes and takes another breath to steady himself.
His lips pull into another smirk. “You always had a mouth on you.” His eyes flicker to my lips before he meets my gaze. “A pity I didn’t appreciate that more when we were younger.”
Why is he being so soft on me right now?It makes no sense. Anderson couldn’t keep a prank going this long back then. That was why he had to have Tag call the school about my cat—when a joke had gone on too long, Anderson would always start laughing. It was the only reason I survived his bullshit back then. He was all malice, but had no stamina to keep going. He preferred the hit-and-run style. A bra strap pull here, an insult there. Nothing that took this kind of planning.
Maybe he’s developed more of a backbone for this kind of thing.
“Are there cameras in the room or something?” I ask as I look around. “Some kind of feed going to the internet so you can broadcast my desperate disgrace around the world? Because if so, I’ve already run to the bed naked, so you can stop this bullshit regretful act. You got me. I’m naked and embarrassed for the world. Congratulations, asshole.”
“No. Nothing like that.”
If that’s true, good. If not, fuck him. But also, if not, then why? I still need that money, as much as I’d like to leave. Of course, then the question becomes, if he’s here for real, then can I even do this? With him, of all people? A night with my bully in exchange for twenty-eight years of my life … can I say no to that just for the sake of my pride?
“You still haven’t told me why you’re here, Anderson. The real reason.”
“I came for you, June.”
Either he’s learned how to be a better liar over the years, or something else is going on.