California Nights (Rich Boys of California Duet 1)
Page 28
Not that I had anything to apologize for.
Right?
His hand closed over my shoulder just as I reached the door.
“Nev, please wait.”
I stopped, breathing heavily. Then I turned and looked at him. He looked awful. Gorgeously, achingly awful.
He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Like he was tormented about something. Like he was in hell.
And I was right there beside him.
“Just… let’s talk, Nev. Please?”
His eyes pleaded with me. I nodded and stepped away from the door. Then I looked around for a place for us to talk and pointed.
Down there, by the scuzzy looking pool. Lounge chairs. How appropriate. My mother didn’t have to ever know.
I saw the curtain twitch.
Scratch that.
Well, at least she didn’t have to worry that I would run off with him. That much I could be certain of. She knew the whole sordid story now. How long I’d cared about him. How he’d convinced me he cared about me.
Only to make sure we got caught in the worst way possible.
Mom had fixated on the fact that Clay had tied me up. She’d hinted that he could be held responsible. But I’d shut it right down. I was a willing participant, for the most part. And I couldn’t stand the thought of causing him trouble.
He followed me down to the pool and watched me sit down on one of the grubby old lounge chairs. I wrapped my arms around my shoulders, suddenly cold.
He stared at me. Not speaking. Just staring at me as if I were water and he was lost in the desert for days.
No. Weeks.
Months.
Years.
“What do you want, Clay?”
I forced myself to be tough. To act as though he hadn’t broken my heart. To act as though he wasn’t still breaking it.
“Nevada… why didn’t you answer my texts?”
I tossed my head.
“You don’t owe me anything. I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not even your friend.”
“You are. Both of those things. More.”
I looked at him. He meant it. Maybe he was just as fucked up as I was…
“That’s a nice sentiment, Clay but it changes nothing. We’re from different worlds. I don’t belong with you. I can’t deal with this anyway. I need to find a job.”
“You have a job.”
“Yeah well it’s not enough. I need another one. I don’t have time to date.”
“I’m not asking you to date me, Nevada. I’m asking you to belong to me.”
A shiver ran through me at his words.
“You already do. Whether you know it or not. Let me take care of you.”
I stood up.
“No. I’m not your plaything. What kind of girl would I be if I let you take care of me?”
He reached out for me but I stepped away.
“You would be human, Nev. You would be smart. Why make things harder on yourself and your mom?”
I crossed my arms and glared at him.
“At least let me get you out of this place. Someplace nicer. Cleaner.”
He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and held it out to me. It was thick. I knew there were thousands of dollars in there. If not more.
I stared at the envelope as if it was a snake that might bite me.
“No. I’m not a whore.”
I brushed past him and he grabbed me, spinning me to face him.
“You’re the furthest thing from that I can imagine.”
Then he kissed me. Hard. And he wouldn’t let go. His hands gripped me. I tried to fight him but he held me tight.
Finally he lifted his head, his eyes glazed.
“Don’t do this, Nev. Don’t shut me out.”
I slipped from his grasp, not looking at him.
“Don’t come here again.”
And then I ran back to our dirty little room to cry.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Clay
I scanned the crowd, hoping for a glance of Nev. I was in between sets on day three of the tournament. She was here somewhere. Working. Giving me the cold shoulder.
Frigid really.
I hadn’t given up though. I had kept my word and stayed away from the flea bag motel they were staying in. Every night though, as I lay in my big comfy bed, I texted her.
Wish you were here.
Goodnight Kitten.
Come back to me.
So far she hadn’t written back. But I could sense that she was wavering. Especially after earlier. I’d caught her watching me win yet another match. She’d ducked her head and scurried away. But I had seen her. And after that I felt like I could do anything.
Nev made me feel like every fucking super hero ever rolled into one.
I’d won my next three matches without breaking a sweat. I was already in the finals. I was just waiting to see who I would play to become club champ.
I had a strong suspicion it would be Matt.
I could not fucking wait for that.
Especially considering I still wanted to ram my tennis racket down his throat. Just for thinking he could date Nevada.
Of course, she might be dating him now. Or anyone. She wasn’t talking to me so I had no way of knowing.