Dirty Scoundrel (Roughneck Billionaires 2)

No, didn’t take it. I paid for it.

That’s a hell of a lot to process, even for me. I can’t imagine how she feels. I know right now, I feel ashamed. I didn’t do this right. I should have met with her again, asked to have dinner. Reconnected like normal fucking people instead of being the “scoundrel” with no feelings.

That ain’t me. It’s never been me.

And now I’ve fucked up the only thing I ever cared about. I hurt the only woman I ever wanted. I get up and tug on my pants, then shove my feet into my boots. I grab my phone and a shirt, then head over to the door, where she’s quietly tryin’ not to cry and failin’. I knock softly.

“J-just a moment,” she calls out, and there’s a wobble in her voice that tells me I ain’t wrong, that she’s definitely cryin’.

I swallow hard. I don’t know what to say. “I’m sorry” seems kinda false because truth is, I knew exactly what I was doin’. I’m just sorry it hurt her feelings. And as an apology, that rings kinda hollow. So I swallow it back and try somethin’ else. “I’m goin’ out for a while,” I tell her. “Stay in the room. I’ll be back soon.” I worry she won’t stay after all. That she’ll run and our contract will be over. Panic makes me add, “I ain’t done with you yet.”

I wince the moment the words come out of my mouth, because that sounds bad.

It goes quiet in the bathroom.

“You hear what I said?” I call.

“I heard it.” Her voice is flat. “I won’t go anywhere.”

I grunt acknowledgment, and scratch at my beard. Shit. I’m fuckin’ this up more and more with every moment. Time to take a step back.

I cast one last unhappy look at the bathroom door, and then leave the hotel room.

Chapter Ten

Three Days Later

Natalie

Knock knock knock.

I put the rental movie on pause and get up from the bed, frowning at just how loud the knock was. Room service? They’re usually a lot quieter. I straighten my pajamas just in case it’s Clay, run a hand through my hair, and then head to the door.

A quick glance in the peephole shows a slender figure with dark hair, dressed in all black and carrying a pizza box, and I don’t know whether to be excited or annoyed. I open the door and tilt my head. “What are you doing here, Lexi?”

“I heard someone was in need of pizza and sarcasm,” my best friend says in her flat, deadpan voice. “Lucky for you, my only appointment canceled on me today.”

“Canceled on you or you canceled on them?”

She shrugs, pushing past me into the hotel room. “I might have mentioned something about needing to commune with my dark overlord.”

I roll my eyes. Lexi’s the weirdest person I know, but I also know she’s a sweetheart. Underneath the dark clothing and gothic commentary is the kindest, gentlest person, who will drive hours just to bring her depressed friend a pizza. “You’re such a goober.”

“Don’t ruin my reputation as a minion of evil,” she says, setting the pizza down and then curling her legs under her on the couch. She’s wearing black-and-red-striped stockings under a long black sweater—unusual wear given that it’s summer in Texas, but that’s Lexi for you. “How are you doing? I’m worried about you.” She sticks her lower lip out. “You make me sad, and you know I don’t like human emotions.”

I can’t help but smile at her commentary. I grab one of the fluffy pillows from the bed and sit on the end of it, cross-legged. “I’m hanging in there.”

“And where is Prince-Not-So-Charming?”

I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine. I haven’t seen him since that day.”

Lexi makes a face. “But he wants you to stay here, on call, just in case he needs a little some-some to get him through the workweek?”

“I guess.” I never thought it’d be something Clay would pull, but I have to keep reminding myself that just because he has moments where he seems like the old Clay, he’s had just as many where he is the new Clay . . .

And the new Clay’s a real prick.

“I stopped by your dad’s place to say hello,” Lexi comments when I grow quiet.

I perk up. “How is he? I’ve gotten lots of texts and some pictures, but it’s nothing like being home.” His nurses have been fantastic and keep me constantly updated, but I worry. Of course I worry. I’ve got nothing to do all day but sit here, wait for Clay, and worry.

“Well, the nurses are so cheerful that I had to stop in the parking lot and vomit.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Okay, I didn’t. But they’re still revoltingly cheerful. And happy. Your dad was having a middling day when I went,” she tells me, lifting a hand and giving it a back-and-forth shake. “Thought he was in a movie, but having a great time reading lines in a script with the nurses. They love him, by the way. Everyone was so happy it made me wish a tapeworm on them.” She gives a little nod to punctuate her weird comment.

“I’m glad,” I say softly. I really am. As long as Dad’s happy, I don’t mind that he’s living in the past. The “happy” part is what’s important. “How did the place look?”

“Completely different,” Lexi admits. “The parking lot is roped off because it’s being poured, the outside of the house is completely repainted, and the roof is being redone. There’s people everywhere updating everything. It all looks brand new.” Lexi narrows her eyes. “I hated it.”

I snort. “You hated it because it looked good?”

“And cheerful. So cheerful. You know I hate cheer.”

My lips twitch. “Which is why you decided to become a yoga instructor.”

“Of course. Have you heard the cries of pain people make when I tell them to get into pigeon pose? It brings joy to my black, shriveled soul.” She mock-shivers.

“You’re weird.”

“Thank you.” Lexi gestures at the pizza. “Eat some of the carbohydrates I brought you. I’d say it’s good for you, but we both know I’m lying.”

I get up from the bed and take a slice of pizza. “Thanks for coming by.”

“What are friends for? Besides, the moment you told me where you were staying, I wanted to come. Rumor has it that the fourteenth floor is haunted.” Her eyes gleam. “Wanna switch rooms to the fourteenth floor?”

“Nope.” I move back to the bed with my pizza slice. “I’m staying here, just like the jerk told me to.”

Lexi sighs dramatically and gets a slice of pizza for herself, then folds her legs gracefully in a cross-legged pose until the soles of her feet are turned to the ceiling. She’s so graceful. I’d be jealous if I didn’t adore her so much, weirdness and all. “So you’re still obeying all the rules he gave you? That’s no fun.”

“I don’t have much of a choice.” The pizza’s cold and greasy but I don’t care. I take a bite anyhow. “He’s paying for so much stuff that it makes my head spin. I don’t get the right to complain about anything.”

“Was he a shitty lay?” She plucks a pepperoni off her slice and nibbles on it. “Guys with lots of money are normally overcompensating for a physical lack.”

“There’s no physical lack,” I say, blushing. Lexi knows how I feel about Clay, and she’s just trying to get a rise out of me—or make me feel better. “Like I told you in my text, there was nothing wrong with the stuff in bed. It’s just out of bed . . . he’s an asshole.” Lexi’s been my constant text companion over the last few days, since I’ve had nothing to do but stew over how wronged I’ve been.

“It’s entirely possible that he’s not gifted with a silver tongue like yours truly,” Lexi says. “Maybe he put his foot in his mouth and now feels too embarrassed to show up and apologize.”

“Now I think you’re giving him too much credit,” I tell her wryly. “I’ve been trying to figure him out for days, and I can’t. The room’s paid up and the staff are under instruction that I can have anything I want and it’ll just be charged to the room. So he must be coming back—”

“Anything? Charged to the room?” Lexi interrupts, an interested look on her face.

“Before you say it, we’re not getting strippers, Lexi.”

She pouts. “But think of the delicious irony.”

“I don’t want to think about irony. Or strippers. I just want Clay to come back and set me free.” I stare down at my half-eaten slice of pizza. I’m not hungry. Normally I try to eat my feelings about my dad and my situation, but lately I haven’t had any appetite at all. This situation with Clay has me feeling lower than low, and helpless. So helpless.

“Do you really want to be set free?” Lexi asks me. “Or do you want him to come back and bone you to death if he promises not to speak anymore?”

Good question. I can’t deny that I have been thinking about the sex constantly. Because, okay, the sex was great. I’m sad we didn’t get to have sex again. I’m sad that now I’m constantly thinking about Clay and the way his body felt over mine, or that nudge I felt just before his cock sank into me . . .

But I also can’t deny that he’s hurt my feelings, badly. And just disappearing for days on end? Who does that? What am I supposed to think? Did I do something wrong? He said I didn’t, and that he enjoyed himself . . . but he’s also left and hasn’t returned. Hasn’t texted. Hasn’t called.

Right now I feel like discarded trash.

“You know what this calls for?” Lexi announces, interrupting my thoughts.

“A Kardashians marathon?” I tease. The horrified look she gives me is worth it.

“I was thinking more like Ghost Hunters. And then after midnight, we can go up to the fourteenth floor and see if we can commune with spirits.”