Chapter Thirty
Sadie
I t’s been three days since everything imploded in my life.
Three days isn’t enough time to heal a heart. Three weeks? Months? Years? Decades?
I don’t know. I’ve never in my life felt this.
I look horrible. My eyes are red from crying and my throat hurts.
My father has been arrested and is on his way back to where he belongs. Jail isn’t teaching him any lessons, and the irony of the new sentence he faces is due to trying to blackmail someone who wouldn’t miss the thirty million dollars he tried to get.
He’ll land on his feet in there as usual, no doubt. But it isn’t my problem.
Three days and not one single word from Kingston.
I’m not proud of myself, but I’ve scoured print papers and online but he’s not really mentioned.
Yia-yia said go to him, but I hung up on her because…what am I meant to do?
I destroyed myself and whatever tiny nugget of something I might have with Kingston to save him.
I know what he’s like. And regardless of anything, even if this hadn’t happened, we would never work.
“You need to get out of here,” I mutter, and grab my coat. I fling open my door and freeze.
Kingston stands there, hand raised, looking like a thunderstorm personified.
He’s so beautiful I could cry again.
I scowl. “Why are you here?”
He pushes past me without an invite and pushes the door shut, then glares at me. His eyes narrow. “You’ve been crying.”
“Allergies.”
I hate him. I can’t even believe I cried over this man.
He slides a finger beneath my chin and his touch sends a shockwave of need and warmth through me. “It’s almost winter, not spring. Have you been crying over me?”
His soft voice and gentle touch almost undo me.
“No.”
“You know, you could say happy birthday.”
“That’s tomorrow.”
“Oh look, she knows.” He brushes my cheek with one thumb. The anger and annoyance is dark fire in his eyes and at odds with the loving touch.
I swat his hand away and step away. He follows. “Happy birthday. Now I’ve fed your pathetic ego, leave.”
“I would if I could. But you…” He points at me. “You. You won’t leave me the fuck alone.”
“Me?” I laugh. “I haven’t done a thing. I haven’t contacted you at all. Some might say I’ve actually left you the fuck alone.”
“Yeah. Exactly. It’s annoying.” He leans in close and drops his voice. “And you’re still gorgeous when you’ve been crying.”
“Do you even know how misogynistic that is? Why don’t you just tell me I’d be pretty if I smiled and get it over and done with. Maybe give me an apron.”
“And have you strangle me with it? No.”
We glare at each other. It’s like something savage needs to come out. And I feel suddenly, gloriously alive. “A girl can dream.”
“You know, Sadie, I got the tiara.”
“You’re welcome.”
He shoves a hand through his hair. “I was on my way to get the fucking thing evaluated, but I find myself here, instead. I even had a buyer.”
He says this like it’s an accusation.
“So?” I give him a shove. Which is a mistake because he’s hard and warm and now I want to touch him more. “I don’t work for you anymore.”
“Is jumping my bones working for me?”
“Fuck you.”
“Invitation?”
“No.” Yes. But I keep that to myself, because I don’t want just sex with this man. I hate him, I love him, I want it all. Forever.
And I don’t know why he’s here.
“I found a buyer and I came here instead.”
“Do you want a medal?”
He exhales noisily. “You’re such a pain in my ass. I don’t know why the fuck my mother thought I had to choose between never knowing the value and you, and knowing the value and selling it and no you.”
My head starts to spin. His mother did what? Because I don’t think the tiara is a Minchini. It might be worthless, it might be priceless, but if he doesn’t then this is about the other worth, the intangible and— “Me?”
“You.”
“You’re smarter than that.”
He laughs bitterly, “Not where you’re concerned.”
“I can’t help it if you make stupid decisions.”
“No, you’re just the fucking cause, Sadie. And it’s only been three days. Three days where I’ve talked myself into all sorts of knots. I’ve told myself I don’t care. I’ve told myself I’m better off without you. I’ve told myself you meant what you said.”
“And what about you?” My heart’s beating fast and something inside starts to glow. “I thought you didn’t want me.”
“I think I showed I wanted you.”
“You told me to leave.”
“Your fucking father was in the other room. And you—you tromped all over me.”
“I was trying to protect you from him.”
Kingston shakes his head. “No, I was trying to protect you.”
“This is not what happened,” I snap.
“Yeah?” He comes up close. “That’s what happened. You showed me I have a heart, and then you destroyed it. I’d say you’re the worst.”
I put my hand on his chest to shove him again, but somehow my fingers tangle in his sweater. “No, you destroyed mine.”
“You know what, Sadie?” He slides a hand through my hair, his fingers against my scalp. “I love that you’re ruthless and you did all this for the money, but it really pisses me off.”
“You’re one to talk. You’re ruthless and cynical and love money more than anything.” I give him a contemptuous look even if my blood is singing. “So, what? I like money, too. I wanted the money and it seemed a good idea to make double the amount.”
“I call that shady ethics.”
“Says the fucking billionaire.”
“To the thief.”
I rise on my toes and brush against him, pulling him to me and our mouths almost touch. “I gave the money back to your mother. I didn’t even have to because she wasn’t out to get you. And you hired me yourself.”
“You admit it.”
“I can’t admit something you know.”
“You can, Sadie,” he says, mouth a whisper from mine, his breath warm and I sway into him.
“But I gave that money back, Kingston. Mr. Billionaire. And you know what really gets my goat, what pisses me the fuck off?”
“I’m sure,” he says like silk, “you’ll tell me.”
“I gave that money back for you. I didn’t like you, and I didn’t plan on liking you, on wanting you. I didn’t plan on you being you. And I hate the fact I fell in love with you!”
“Yeah? Well, how do you think I feel? I didn’t plan on liking you, on you being you. I don’t want or believe in love. So how do you think I fucking feel? I’m in love with you, too!”
Silence slams down and we stare at each other and I want to cry all over again. But not like before. Inside something big and sweet and wild builds. The savageness is love, and I…I could close this gap. I could kiss him and fuck him and we’d what?
“So where does this leave us?” I ask quietly. “You said…the tiara…you’ll never know what it’s worth if you choose me.”
He half smiles. “I could lie and do it and my mother would never know.”
“We won’t ever work, Kingston. You’ll know if you do that, and so will I. And you’ll resent me if you don’t and…” I breathe in and watch him. “And we’re too the same. If we love each other, this will get to us and—”
“I cancelled the evaluation on the way. And the buyer,” he says. “And we are too the same.”
“What are you saying, Kingston?”
He kisses me, then. And it’s the sweetest thing ever. Full of love and lust and latent passion, like we have all the time in the world. “You, I choose you.”
“But the tiara—”
“I don’t care. One of us needs to be pragmatic. Otherwise we’ll fight ourselves into misery again and you’ll come to me and we’ll fight, we’ll have sex and then we’ll fight and you’ll run and I’ll come after you.”
“You’ll come after me?”
He nods. “It’s exhausting. And I don’t want to be back and forth. You admitted you loved me.”
“And you said you loved me.”
“So. Pragmatism. We work.”
I kiss him again. “We fight.”
“Yeah. We work.”
“But,” I say quietly, “you’ll come to realize you want the tiara evaluated.”
He lets go of my hair and slides his hand down my spine, pulling me in against him, and we fit. Oh, do we fit.
“I know the value.”
“You do?”
He nods. “Yeah. You can’t put monetary value on the priceless. And it’s that, because of you. I know it’s worth everything with you by my side. Even if it was made of string. And, without you?” He shrugs. “Worthless.”
“By your side, huh?”
“Someone needs to keep you in line.”
“You think you can keep me in line, Kingston?”
He laughs and it’s so genuine it lifts my heart. “Actually, no. I don’t think anyone can. I’m just offering you me. No thrills. Only me. And money.”
“This isn’t a transaction.”
“I know—”
“Because real love isn’t,” I say, letting go of his shirt and taking hold of his face. He needs a shave. “I don’t want money, or thrills like you’re thinking. They’re overrated. You’re all the thrills I want. And I want you.”
“I’m not good at this shit. Opening up, being vulnerable.” He rests his forehead against mine.
“And you think I am? We can do it together. We have a lifetime.”
He smiles. “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”
Kingston captures my mouth in a kiss that’s a promise and better than a ring. Because this is real if I want it. And I want it. I want him. Forever.
“Good,” I say. “Because I want that. I want you.”
“Then you have that. You have me. All of me. The good and the bad.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re going to drive me crazy.”
He laughs again. “And you me. But we get to make up.”
“I look forward to it.” I take a breath and pull back. And I meet his gaze. “So…want to marry a reformed thief?”
“Yes. If you want to marry a ruthless, cynical billionaire.”
“I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
And as we kiss again, it’s a promise of the future. And I know this is right. This is good. This is love.
This is forever.
Me and Kingston.
For the rest of our lives.
This is the end of Kingstion and Sadie's love story.