so fucking proud of that fact. Can’t you tell?” My tone was dry and sarcastic, and I sighed heavily.
I stood up and rubbed the corner of my eye. That was why I wasn’t close to anyone. I could hear the pity in his voice—the poor Cassie that always crept through. I was so fucking sick of people giving me sympathy. I wasn’t in this situation by accident. I’d made the choice to be a single mom because the alternative had never even crossed my mind.
“Look, I don’t want your pity,” I said to him without looking at him. “I’d choose hating myself every day for the rest of my life if it meant she would be okay. Let’s just get this mess figured out, okay? File for the divorce on Monday. I won’t contest it. I don’t want anything you have. Just get it done.”
I just wanted it to disappear. I wanted to take an eraser to it . Get rid of it, even if the marks it’d leave behind would always be a problem.
“All right,” he replied gently. His eyes were fixed on mine, and he stood up straight and approached me. “Cassie, if you need help...” He reached for me.
I stepped back, holding my hands up, palms toward him. “I don’t need help. I don’t need anything, least of all from you, okay? I’ve done it alone for seven years. The rest of my life isn’t going to kill me. I’ve got balls of steel.”
“I believe it. But if you do need help at any time—”
“I don’t. Okay? I don’t.” I met his eyes and gestured between us. “This is bullshit. Don’t think you need to be nice to me because you like how I fuck.”
His jaw tightened. “You think that’s why I’m being nice to you? Because you’re real pretty when you’re on your back with your legs around my neck?”
I stared at him for a long moment before I said, “Yeah. That’s usually how it works.”
The air fizzed with tension. A vein throbbed in his neck as he stared me down, his eyes flashing with annoyance, his jaw clamped tight.
Then he stepped forward, quicker than I could step back, and grasped my chin firmly in his hand. His other hand gripped my hip so tight that I could feel his fingers burning into my skin as his breath washed over my parted lips.
“My reputation as a gentleman is questionable. I understand. I fuck too many women and I discard them quicker and harder than I screw them, but contrary to what you may think about me, Cassie, baby, I’m not a fucking asshole.” His eyes searched mine, tugging at my heart in a way I didn’t understand.
Maybe it was the glint in them that asked me to believe he was more than the person he was made out to be—more than the person he’d made himself out to be .
Maybe it was the flash that told me there were so many more layers to Beckett Cruz than anyone knew.
“Today, tomorrow, next month, when this mistake is taken care of, my offer of help still stands. Whether you’re on your back with your legs around my neck or not.” His fingers twitched against my jaw, and he loosened his grip on my hip. “Because you’re a good person. I can see it when I look in your eyes. Don’t think I’m doing it just because I like the way you look when you come on my cock.”
I slapped his hand away and stepped back, forcing him to drop his hold on me. “If I could, I’d quit right now. I don’t want your help, Beckett. I don’t want it and I don’t need it. Do you understand that?”
“No,” he said slowly, holding my gaze in a way that was equal parts terrifying and hypnotizing. “Because I think you’re lying so hard you don’t even believe it yourself.”
I held the stare for a moment before I stalked toward the desk and grabbed my cash from the horny groom. A short series of knocks rattled the door, and I paused.
“Beck?” A woman’s voice sounded. “Are you in there? Why is the door locked?”
I turned with a raised eyebrow.
“Mia.” He sighed and walked toward the door. The lock clicked as he turned it. Then he yanked the door open. “What do you
I stood up and rubbed the corner of my eye. That was why I wasn’t close to anyone. I could hear the pity in his voice—the poor Cassie that always crept through. I was so fucking sick of people giving me sympathy. I wasn’t in this situation by accident. I’d made the choice to be a single mom because the alternative had never even crossed my mind.
“Look, I don’t want your pity,” I said to him without looking at him. “I’d choose hating myself every day for the rest of my life if it meant she would be okay. Let’s just get this mess figured out, okay? File for the divorce on Monday. I won’t contest it. I don’t want anything you have. Just get it done.”
I just wanted it to disappear. I wanted to take an eraser to it . Get rid of it, even if the marks it’d leave behind would always be a problem.
“All right,” he replied gently. His eyes were fixed on mine, and he stood up straight and approached me. “Cassie, if you need help...” He reached for me.
I stepped back, holding my hands up, palms toward him. “I don’t need help. I don’t need anything, least of all from you, okay? I’ve done it alone for seven years. The rest of my life isn’t going to kill me. I’ve got balls of steel.”
“I believe it. But if you do need help at any time—”
“I don’t. Okay? I don’t.” I met his eyes and gestured between us. “This is bullshit. Don’t think you need to be nice to me because you like how I fuck.”
His jaw tightened. “You think that’s why I’m being nice to you? Because you’re real pretty when you’re on your back with your legs around my neck?”
I stared at him for a long moment before I said, “Yeah. That’s usually how it works.”
The air fizzed with tension. A vein throbbed in his neck as he stared me down, his eyes flashing with annoyance, his jaw clamped tight.
Then he stepped forward, quicker than I could step back, and grasped my chin firmly in his hand. His other hand gripped my hip so tight that I could feel his fingers burning into my skin as his breath washed over my parted lips.
“My reputation as a gentleman is questionable. I understand. I fuck too many women and I discard them quicker and harder than I screw them, but contrary to what you may think about me, Cassie, baby, I’m not a fucking asshole.” His eyes searched mine, tugging at my heart in a way I didn’t understand.
Maybe it was the glint in them that asked me to believe he was more than the person he was made out to be—more than the person he’d made himself out to be .
Maybe it was the flash that told me there were so many more layers to Beckett Cruz than anyone knew.
“Today, tomorrow, next month, when this mistake is taken care of, my offer of help still stands. Whether you’re on your back with your legs around my neck or not.” His fingers twitched against my jaw, and he loosened his grip on my hip. “Because you’re a good person. I can see it when I look in your eyes. Don’t think I’m doing it just because I like the way you look when you come on my cock.”
I slapped his hand away and stepped back, forcing him to drop his hold on me. “If I could, I’d quit right now. I don’t want your help, Beckett. I don’t want it and I don’t need it. Do you understand that?”
“No,” he said slowly, holding my gaze in a way that was equal parts terrifying and hypnotizing. “Because I think you’re lying so hard you don’t even believe it yourself.”
I held the stare for a moment before I stalked toward the desk and grabbed my cash from the horny groom. A short series of knocks rattled the door, and I paused.
“Beck?” A woman’s voice sounded. “Are you in there? Why is the door locked?”
I turned with a raised eyebrow.
“Mia.” He sighed and walked toward the door. The lock clicked as he turned it. Then he yanked the door open. “What do you
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