“I did. If you had asked me that a few weeks ago, I would have said yes. I tried to, Olivia. I really tried.”
“So you don’t hate me?”
The sigh he releases sounds like years of tension leaving his body. “You’re unexpectedly likable, Miss Nolan.” Davis squeezes my hand, reminding me that we’re still sitting so close to each other.
“If you don’t hate me, why did you treat me like you did?” I ask. “You were so cold to me. The things that you said to me. Why did you do all of that?”
“Frankly, I wanted to ruin your life this summer.”
“You were trying to hurt me?” I wish that my voice didn’t waver as I ask him that, but there’s this soft betrayal forming in the back of my mind, like a thick fog rolling onto a beach.
“I’m not proud of it.”
Briefly, I wonder if I even want to hear the truth. To find out he was trying to ruin my life… “You planned this?”
“Part of it,” he admits, exhaling slowly like tension is leaving his body. “First, I planned on sleeping with you once and doing such a fine job of it that you would spend the rest of the summer yearning for me. That obviously didn’t pan out because you didn’t show. Ten thousand wasn’t enough for you anymore. I had to up my price, but in order to do that, I needed to sleep with you more than once. That made it impossible for me to go through with my initial plan.
“So, then I decided I was going to tie you to me. Write up a contract and make you an offer that you couldn’t turn down. Once you were chained to me with golden handcuffs, I was going to make every week of your life a living hell, knowing that you wouldn’t break our contract.”
I pause with my lips parted slightly as I process the information. It feels like a brain dump of horrible surprises that exceed all of the twistedness I was expecting. “All of that, all of that coldness and the humiliation—that was revenge?”
Davis nods silently before he says, “I’m telling you all of this because I failed. I failed miserably. I set out to torment and aggravate you every week and I ended up falling for you. I’m falling hard, Olivia.”
It’s my turn to be quiet. I’m caught between his brutal honesty and him admitting that he cares for me. The revelation is bittersweet, verging on acidic.
“I’m not a villain,” he continues. “I wanted to be. I tried to be. All I ended up doing was…well, I ended up paying you a lot for sex that I’m starting to guess I could have gotten for free. Par for the course, though. I suspect that eight years ago, I could have been with you for free as well.”
His comment brings me back, offering me a much-needed reminder that I’m not without guilt when it comes to the ups and downs between Davis and me. I’m the original sin, clearly. Apparently what I did was enough to make a kind guy like Davis wrestle against his true nature to hurt me.
“Davis, I’m sorry that I did that to you,” I say suddenly, wishing that I could hold back, but I can’t. I can’t enjoy this moment without thinking about how badly I wrecked him.
He pulls back again, letting his expression soften. “I know.”
“You’re right. I would have done it for free. I wanted to do it for free. The night that we met, I wanted you to take me back to your room, but…” I trail off, parsing through the memories of those two short days. Of the moment I first saw him. Of his brother wheeling and dealing across a café table. “I wish I could take it back, but I can’t.”
“It’s okay.”
“But it’s not okay. Obviously, it hurt you. It killed you. It made you so angry at me for years. I should have known better than to do that to someone like you. Someone sensitive and sweet and honest. I was just so desperate for the money, and—”
“You don’t have to explain. I know.”
“It’s just clear that I did some irreparable damage—”
“I was a virgin,” he interjects.
I freeze as soon as I hear the words, shock and confusion taking over my body and manifesting in the form of silence. I can barely breathe. All I can do is allow my jaw to lower slightly as I stare at Davis. His expression tells me everything I need to know: stoic and unassuming, with a hint of reluctance in the slight grimace on his lips—Davis is telling the truth.
“What?” I finally manage to say.
“I was a virgin,” he repeats, bobbing his head a couple of times like he knows how hard this is for me to comprehend—and stomach. “You were the first person I ever slept with. At the time, it was tough for me to come to terms with that. I thought you liked me. I thought you wanted me for me.”
“I did,” I insist, shifting on the bench so that I can face him. “I really did.”
“I understand that now,” he confirms with a shrug that has no business being so nonchalant. “I’ll be honest: I don’t think I understood that until a few weeks ago, but I get it. But at the time and for the last few years, I thought that the only reason you slept with me is because somebody paid you. So, I spent the last eight years trying to become the kind of person I thought you wanted. Then when I had a chance to see you again, I decided I would use it to make you regret what you did because it messed with my head so badly, Olivia.”
“So you got fit, became obsessed with your job…”
“And I bought you. Again. I called you a whore and a slut so you could feel as used as I did. But, as you know, that part backfired because you’re so damn sick that you love that.”
I nudge him, pretending to be offended.
“And that’s the truth. I did all of this to fuck with you the same way that you did to me. I wanted to turn your world upside down, and all I ended up doing was screwing myself over because I’m addicted to you, Olivia. I’d give you my virginity a thousand times over if I could, each more embarrassing than the last. Hell, I’d pay a hundred grand a night for you if that’s what it takes. I can’t hurt you. I can’t ruin your life. I can’t because I don’t want to. I want to make you happy. I want to give you the world.”
Floodgates burst open and splinter irreparably. I begin to kiss him, latching my arms around his neck and holding him close and planting kiss after kiss against his lips. My mouth attaches to his like my life depends on that connection point. Eagerly, I breathe in every breath that he has to offer.
We’re outside on a busy walkway, in plain sight of any passerby out for an evening stroll in Amsterdam. My gut tells me that what we’re doing is starting to border on lewd. But what is it that Davis likes to say? Oh yes: Fuck it.
“Olivia,” he manages to utter in between kisses, his words caught and muffled in my mouth. “Let me take you somewhere private.”
I shake my head, refusing to stop. Refusing to be separated from him. I shift onto him, climbing into his lap. I’m shameless and insatiable, holding him even tighter and rubbing myself on his thighs. I know how easily anyone could see us, and I don’t care. All I care about is feeling Davis’s body and showing him how much he drives me out of my skin.
“Olivia—”
“Don’t you fucking make me stop,” I warn, breaking the kiss to press my forehead against his. We’re both out of breath at this point, but this man makes me feel like breathing is plain overrated.
Davis smiles, his grin unabashed like he can’t quite comprehend that I want him so badly. “Come on. Let me take you back to the hotel so I can take you properly. So I can use your body. An audience might be fun, but nobody in this city could afford to watch what I have in store for you.”
Honestly, he had me at Come on.