CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LEXI
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“He just stood there with an erection?” Catherine gasps.
I nod, sipping my drink as Emily and Catherine stare at me from across the table. We’re having lunch at Eleven Madison Park while waiting for her wedding planner to meet us.
“Why does that never happen to me?”
“What did you say?” Emily drops her arm on the table, fully invested in this story.
I almost lie.
“I said I’d suck him off for a thousand dollars.”
Catherine gasps again, then breaks into a loud laugh while Emily oh my gods it.
I shrug and keep sipping my vodka.
It’s a great story, and one day I might be able to laugh, but not today. Or yesterday. Frankly, I’m pissed. How dare Mason drag me into the changing room with him like I’m his girlfriend or some cheap woman he thinks would drop to her knees and suck him off?
That might not have stopped me having a hardcore orgasm with my vibrator last night, but I am still offended.
“I’m going to assume he didn’t pull out his wallet or...” Catherine blushes.
How does she have children?
“No, Catherine, he didn’t pull out his dick, nor did I touch it.”
Well, that’s a lie, but I’m going to keep that part to myself.
I was mad. I was taunting him.
I promised I’d play nice and failed miserably.
I glance over my drink at Em, who looks concerned. “Don’t worry, we both laughed it off.”
Lie number two.
“Oh, good.” She nods and then leans back as our meals arrive. “I swear I’m so nervous about the wedding. There are so many people coming I still haven’t met. I realize Sebastian has a huge life, but it’s all a lot.”
I glance at Sebastian’s sister and wait for her to say something. She doesn’t. Just dives into her salad and nods.
“I guess that’s who he is,” I offer.
“Yeah. We reduced it from three hundred guests to one fifty, so I suppose it’s a compromise.”
Jesus.
One hundred and fifty. Only twenty of them will be Emily’s people.
Would marrying Mason be the same?
What an irrational thought.
He can’t even stand to spend a day with me, let alone a lifetime.
I know I made some dick comments when Emily first came to America, about them being handsome billionaires, and they are. But now I know them all a little better, and they are just people.
Obviously, Mason is a jerk.
Colt is funny but distant, always seems to be distracted. Zander is an interesting dichotomy of professional and cheeky.
Drew is extremely good-looking, but aside from the odd moment, emotionally distant. It’s sexy, though.
Not sexy in the way I was...am...attracted to Mason. Drew was flirting with me yesterday, and when I saw it upset Mason, I stepped away.
For Emily.
Sleeping with two of their friends would just complicate things further.
Liar. You still want Mason.
I suck down more of my drink. Clearly, I am not drunk enough to think clearly.
It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving America after the wedding. I’ll stay with my parents and then work out what I do with my life.
I have never hated anyone as much as I hate Johnathan. For hitting on me in the stairwell. For lying. For setting me up and taking away any chance of having a good future.
But what can I do?
He’s destroyed my life.
I want to be here for Emily, but her problems seem a little less life threatening than mine at the moment. I’m stuck. I don’t know how to fix this and not end up on the streets.
Here or in the United Kingdom.
And the worst part is that I feel like Mason is right. If someone offered me money right now, I’d do almost anything for it.
Which makes me hate him.
And I don’t want to hate him if I’m honest. I want to cry against his chest and have him believe in me. I want him to fight for me like I’m some heroine in a story that needs a powerful warrior.
To destroy my enemy.
Because alone, I have failed.
And I keep failing.
Depression is tugging at the corners, but I will stay strong for Emily, and then when I get home, I can let go.
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SUNDAY NIGHT I’m offered a job at a bar three blocks from my apartment. The cash under the table role pays just enough to pay for my food, utilities and a bit more. I’ll be relying on tips to breathe. Thank goodness the rent is covered.
The rest of my savings are for a flight home and emergencies.
And Emily’s bachelorette party.
I hope I don’t get sick.
Or hit by a car.
Feeling a little lighter and enjoying my last night of freedom before starting at On The Rocks, I wander back home with a small spring in my step.
When I reach my apartment, those strides slow.
Why is there a silver Lamborghini with a familiar muscular, jean-clad body leaning against it?
Why is he here?
Mason pushes away from the vehicle and slips his hands into his pockets. “Lexi.”
“Mr. Kinglsey.” I stop in front of him and open my mouth to say something else, but his frown stops me.
“Can I come inside?” Mason asks.
“To my apartment?” My eyes widen.
I realize my mistake.
Where else would he want to come inside? The only smart answer is a dirty one, so I shake my head because we don’t have space for jokes like that between us anymore.
“Sure. Come up.”
“Thank you.”
The Lamborghini beeps as he follows me inside the building. I want to make a comment about how gorgeous the silver car is, but I’m shit scared he’ll accuse me of wanting to steal it.
This is so dumb.
I hate it.
Can’t we just go back to our friendly and flirtatious ways? I can pretend I’m happy, and my life isn’t falling apart.
He can pretend he still thinks I’m sexy and wants me, even though we both know I’m not good enough for him.
I pull up my big girl panties and prepare to have the most adult conversation of my life.
And lie.
Again.
I seem to be doing that a lot.