ALICIA
I have mixed feelings about what he's saying. It took a lot of balls for him to come here and say what he did, but that doesn't excuse his actions. When I woke up alone, I was pissed. I thought we connected. Thought this could be more than just sex because wow! The sex was amazing. Better than I've ever had, yet it all became tainted when I woke up and he was gone. I thought there was more to us, though. A deeper connection. And I refuse to give my heart to someone who can easily push me aside like he did. Not that I'm giving him my heart, but what if this goes further? What if we become a couple and then he pulls something like this again? I couldn't handle it. So, I need to do what's best for me, no matter how hot he looks standing in front of me, waiting for me to let him in.
"You have to go." My tone is even; firm.
His eyebrows furrow. "What?"
"I can't do this. How do I know you won't leave again? We were together one night, and you fucking left without so much as a note. When I finally decide to be with someone, it will be a man who has enough respect for me not to leave in the morning before I wake." My hands ball into fists at my sides. "I told myself I wasn't going to do this again. I was done with one-night stands, yet I thought you were different. You weren't. You’re the same as every other guy."
He stumbles back slightly as the rain beats down on him, quickly soaking his shirt and showing off every hard ridge of his muscles. Then his face turns hard as stone. "You want me to leave? I came here to apologize, and you won't accept it?"
"I do accept it, and I appreciate you doing it, but you’ve left once. What’s to stop you from doing it again? I don't know you, Rider. We only spent one night together. If you want me, you're going to have to prove it. And I don't mean just right now. I've been fucked over so many times by friends and lovers; I can't let someone in who could keep breaking me. I won't. So prove it or don't speak to me again."
With that, I turn into the garage and shut the door. It lowers as I watch him slowly disappear on the other side. I don't miss the growl of his exhaust as he starts his SUV or the sound of his tires on the wet pavement as he accelerates down my driveway. I hurt him by only accepting his apology, but I suppose at this point, it’s better that he hurts than me.
Once I'm in the house, I shut the door behind me and lean heavily against it.
The silence is deafening.
An unnecessary silence that didn't need to be if only I would have let Rider in.
He came here.
He apologized.
And I cast him aside.
I shake my head and try to rid myself of any guilt I have at making him leave. Part of me wonders if I made the right decision, but the other part knows I didn't. If this man wants more than just to fuck me, he'll find a way to treat me with the respect I deserve.
Every time someone finds out who I am, and that I have access to all the clubs my father owns, they want to be my friends or boyfriends. They only want me to have access to the wealth and popularity that comes along with being with me. They don't give a shit who I am, nor about my feelings. Everything revolves around what I can do for them.
I used to go to the club every night. It started out as mere publicity and to get myself known as part of the business. But I soon learned that no one took me seriously. I was the young daughter of the man who ran it all, and was treated like I didn't know a thing, even though I went to college and got my degree in business. But I'm blonde, slender, and must look like I'm out there to have fun. So that's what I did. Everyone thought I was just for show. The daughter who danced and partied like she didn’t have a care in the world.
I drank a lot. Went to the clubs around the country to lose myself in the music. Private jets and more liquor than I knew what to do with. It was all amazing, and I melded right into that world. Until the morning I woke and someone who I thought was a friend disappeared without a word. Guys did it to me all the time, but when another woman betrayed me, the sting was much deeper. Even to my same sex, I was nothing more than a good time. Then I discovered things out of place in my office and realized, no matter how much people say they want to be my friend, and that my money doesn't matter, it always comes back to just that. And I'll be damned if I'm going to sit around and let people walk all over me anymore.
Now, I'm the businesswoman everyone walks on eggshells around. Yes, I'm kind and smile when I need to but, behind closed doors, I'm as shrewd as my father.
I went to him the morning I found my office had been gone through and told him I needed to change my life around. I was done clubbing and drinking. There were tears in his eyes when I said those words. He told me he knew I'd get there on my own, and he didn't want to force me but, had I continued on the road I was traveling, he was going to put me into treatment for my drinking.
Ever since my mom died, he's given me whatever I wanted and, by me turning to liquor to drown out my sorrows, he didn't know what to do. He was more than glad when I realized it on my own before heading down a darker road. One that could have led to drugs. I was offered them all the time, but something in the back of my head whispered to me not to go there, and I didn't.
So, here I am. Single. Still sad over the fact that I'm alone. But I'm making positive changes in my life. I run charities. I have a larger hand in the business. And one day, when my dad is no longer able to run the business, it will be mine. No way will I tarnish what he's done for me by fucking up or being with someone who only wants me for my money.
I stand and straighten my spine, finally solid in my decision to tell Rider to leave. It was for the best.
* * *
Four days go by before I hear from him again. In all honesty, I didn't think I was going to. Everything pointed to me being just another fuck for him and that was that. Then he sent me flowers. Not just any flowers either. Gorgeous violet irises. I'm not sure how he knew they were my favorite. The card attached to the delivery read, "I heard every word you said. I'm sorry and will make it up to you."
This is the first step. I place the gorgeous bouquet on the round table in my breakfast nook so I can look at them when I sit down to eat. It's a start.
Five minutes later, my phone rings. Not looking at the number, I answer it. My number isn't listed anywhere, and the only ones who have it are for business.
"Hello?"
"Did you get the flowers?" Rider's voice comes over the line, and damn if every nerve ending in my body doesn't come alive at the sound of his smooth tone.
"I did. Thank you."
"I'd like to have dinner with you." My mind starts whirling with this just being about publicity. He wants to be out in public and have people see me with him; then the rumor mill can start with everyone trying to figure out who the new man on my arm is. Most of the time, it's awful going out when everyone knows who I am.
"I don't think that's such a good idea," I respond honestly.
"I want to cook for you. In my home. Or I can come to you and cook. Whatever is easier for you." Well, that certainly wasn't what I was expecting. The tone of his voice tells me he's sincere. Now to weigh my options and find out more.
"Why?" It's a simple question. It will tell me if he's being honest about what he said the other day.
"I want to see you again. You're all I've thought about since we were together. You're different, Alicia. You don't want to fuck me and run. You're not after me because I'm a detective and you want to fulfill some kind of hot cop fantasy. And I want to prove to you that I'm not someone who is only in this with you for sex. Because I know what that feels like." Fuck me sideways. I never would have thought those words would come from him. I’m a little taken aback that women sleep with him just because he has a badge. He’s out there every day protecting people and solving crimes. The fact that women see him like some kind of fantasy to live out bothers me. He’s been used as I have.
“I’m not saying I’m always innocent,” he admits. “I do go out looking for a good time as well, but it’s not always on me. I get where you’re coming from, even if it’s for a different reason.” His honesty hits a part deep inside me; the same part that was slammed into when he was honest at the charity event.
"Your house," I respond. If all else fails, I can leave. Having dinner here would mean I'd give him another shot at running out on me in the morning...if I let it get that far. This way, I have more control over the situation. I can leave if I want, whenever I want.
"Does Saturday at seven work? I can pick you up."
"Saturday is good, but I'll drive myself."
"I wouldn't keep you here if you didn't want to be,” he says, as if reading my mind. “If I drive you, and you want to leave at any point, I'll take you home without another word. I promise. Let me come get you. It would feel more like a date if I do." Dammit. When he says it like that, I can't resist. The idea of someone coming to my house to pick me up for an actual date blows my mind. I haven't been on a traditional one in, shit, I'm not sure how long.
"Okay," I say softly.
"Perfect," he replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "Is there anything I should avoid making? Any food allergies?" Okay, now we're just heading into sweet territory, and I'm not sure what to do with that. Maybe he does want to prove to me I'm different and so is he.
"No allergies."
There's a long pause, neither of us saying anything, and then his voice cuts through again, reaching parts of me that have long lain dormant. "Alicia, I won't hurt you again. From this point forward, I'm going to be completely upfront with you. I want to get to know you. I want you to know me. Thank you for giving me the chance to do so."
Emotion forms in my throat, and guilt from making him leave the other day gnaws at me. He was sincere, and I wasn't listening. But that's okay because now he has the chance to prove to me he's not after me for sex or money. He has the chance to prove he's a stand-up guy who has the best intentions. Though, if I'm honest with myself, I can't brush off the way he made me feel over and over that night. How every touch of his lips—every stroke of his hand—lit a fire inside me that had me near combustion.
Instead of letting him hear how much his words affect me, I simply reply with, "See you on Saturday," and end the call.