CHAPTER 1
I’m pacing the floor of the hotel room, fuming. How could Sean say that? My fingers ball into fists, as I kick off each shoe and watch them fly across the room. Do whatever you want, he said. Damn right that I’m going to do whatever I want. Moving through the room quickly, I start packing my things, shoving them into the bag. The urge to scream has been building inside of me since dinner. It wasn’t Peter or Sidney—it was Sean.
I had my fork halfway to my mouth when Sean announced that he was leaving and heading out with Peter for a few days. When I first heard the news, I could only manage to blink at Sean. He didn’t invite me along, he didn’t tell me he was leaving, and the words he said made me so goddamn angry that I stormed away from the table like some sort of deranged drama queen—but I couldn’t sit there anymore. I would have smashed my plate over his head.
Sean watched me walk away and did nothing to stop me. He didn’t chase after me or call out for me to stop. He let me walk away without even glancing my way. There was no concern, no remorse. Do whatever you want.
I step into the bathroom, and try to grab all my stuff in one trip. I pile my make-up bag and hair stuff into my arms, and head to the shower to grab my conditioner. When I lean forward, everything tumbles out of my arms and skitters across the floor. I stand there for a moment and stare. This isn’t happening to me. It’s not real. I’ll go home later and Mom will be there. She can fix this.
She would have been able to…
My throat tightens to the point that I can’t swallow. My gaze blurs as my thoughts take off in a million different directions like dandelion seeds in the wind. I don’t hear Sean standing behind me until he speaks.
“What are you doing?” His voice is deep, demanding.
I don’t turn. My body remains rigid, with my shoulders too tense. If he touches me, I’ll punch him. Anger is swirling inside of me and mixing with dread. Things can’t end this way.
Something inside me snaps and I round on him. Before Sean can speak, I slam my open palms into his chest, shoving him as hard as I can. Sean barely moves. It’s like I’m no more substantial than a snowflake.
“What am I doing? Me? You’re asking me? How about you? What the hell are you doing?” Sean doesn’t answer, so I slam my hands into his chest again, harder this time. “Tell me! Don’t just stand there like that and act like nothing’s wrong!”
When my hands slam into his chest again, Sean grabs hold of my wrists and doesn’t let go. He yanks me toward him so my face is close to his. “I have no idea what you’re talking about or why you behaved as you did downstairs.”
I lean back, trying to pull away from him, but Sean won’t let me. “You know exactly what you did down there! You knew what would happen before you even said it—I could see it on your face—so don’t you dare lie to me now, and act like you have no idea why I’m mad. And, I swear to God, if you blame it on PMS, I will cut you.”
Sean represses a smirk at my threat. His blue gaze seems amused by the idea, as if I could possibly hurt him. The man is made of stone. Nothing hurts him, not anymore. “As delightful as it sounds to see you in a full blown rage, I hardly think your behavior is warranted.”
“You handed me off to Henry,” I hiss. “Don’t play this game with me Sean. Don’t stand there and pretend that you didn’t. You’re leaving me tomorrow and you didn’t say a damn thing about it.”
“I didn’t hand you off to anyone. You made your own decision and I made mine.” Sean drops my wrists, like he’s through with me, and walks out of the bathroom. He crosses the floor and pulls a bottle of liquor out of the bar. Everything about him is so calm, like nothing is wrong. He pours his drink as I stare at him in disbelief.
“What decision did I make, Sean? Because I don’t remember making one that included you leaving New York without me.”
“This is childish, Avery. We’re both adults here.” Sean turns toward me and leans back against the bar. The tumbler is loosely held in his hand, and everything about the way he stands says he doesn’t care. “And I did not hand you off to Henry Thomas. You chose him when you failed to choose me.”
“That’s what this is about? Are you insane? I didn’t choose Henry.”
“You didn’t choose me, did you? Or did I miss something?” Sean raises the glass to his lips and tips it back. The contents disappear in one gulp. Sean glances up at me from under his brow, waiting for an answer. My jaw is open and I hesitate. The words are there, but I can’t say them. I don’t want to hurt him. A smug expression spreads across Sean’s face. “I thought so.”
Fuck it. I stomp over to him and look up into his beautiful face. “You thought what? You thought that I’d be happy to be your live-in call girl? You thought that I’d be flattered that you offered to buy me?”
“I offered you more than that and you know it.” Sean sets down his empty glass firmly, and folds his arms over his chest as his eyes narrow into slits, like he’s ready to fight. Everything about him says that I should back off, that there is no way to win this argument, but I can’t shut up.
Rage is coursing through my veins so rapidly that I want to strangle him. “Did you? Because I didn’t hear that. You said that you wouldn’t share, that I’d be yours. You said you loved me and then you offered to buy me from Black. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that—be flattered? Swoon, fall at your feet, and thank you for hiring me to be your own personal sex slave. Wake up, Sean!”