Calendar Boy (The Cougar Chronicles 2)
”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about Dino and Ronnie right now, damn it! I only care about you!”
She scoffed. “Right.”
His heart burst with sensation he couldn’t describe. Worry. Intense longing. Sadness. What the hell was happening to him?
“Stace…”
“Get out, Michael.”
“Won’t you talk to me? Come on. You owe me that much.”
She sat upright, her big baby browns afire. “Owe you? I don’t owe you a goddamned thing, Michael Moretti. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that.”
“But we shared—“
“We shared a fuck, Michael. A fuck. I knew what it was from the beginning. Don’t think I didn’t. I knew you didn’t want me for me. I’m not an idiot, for God’s sake.”
“I did want you. I swear—”
“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up. I can’t stand to listen to any more of your lies.”
“Lies? I never lied to you, Stacy. I swear.”
“God, you sling such bullshit. Do you ever listen to yourself?”
“I—”
“Too bad you didn’t run into Dino and Ronnie. They’d have clued you in. Let’s just say I stumbled into a very interesting conversation between your roomie and his current squeeze—and Ronnie deserves better, by the way.”
Oh, God. Michael’s insides squirmed. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. He’d told Dino… Oh fuck.
Why did it matter? Women like Stacy were a dime a dozen, right? One rich older woman would give way to another, and then another, all too happy to pay for the privilege of his companionship.
Right?
Isn’t that how it was supposed to work?
So why did it matter? So he’d invested twenty-four hours in Stacy Summers. Sure, she was easy on the eyes. Very easy. Damned good in bed too. But there were others just as easy on the eyes, just as good in bed, probably some with more money even. Chalk it up to experience and take the loss. Try again tomorrow. Tomorrow’s another day and all that.
But Stacy… Fuck. He liked her. He really liked her. Liked fucking her. Liked sky diving with her. Hell, he liked talking to her. Who’d have thought?
“Listen, Stacy, I don’t know what Dino told you—”
“He didn’t tell me anything. He didn’t have to tell me anything. I just got a clue, that’s all. I’m a smart girl. You don’t have to draw me a picture.”
“So he didn’t tell you about—”
“Hello? Are you listening? He didn’t tell me anything. He told Ronnie, and I overheard it. Now, get out. I’m not anyone’s sugar mama.”
Fuck. “God, Stace. I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“So am I.” She lay back down. “No, I’m not. I’m glad I know. I’m glad I know who you really are. What kind of man you really are. To think, I almost…”
“Almost what?”
“Never mind. Get out, Michael.”