Beau had no doubt he was. If he wanted Lola as his own, for good, he could have her. There was no question about that—he’d done it once, and no matter how much work it would be, he could do it again. Beau was a better man than Johnny—and fuck, he was certainly a better man for Lola than Johnny.
“Yes,” Beau said. “Lola and I are—” What did he want to say? Not that they were a perfect fit. Maybe that they were both hard to handle, both impossible to hang on to, but that if anyone could, it would be each other.
“Look,” Churchill said. “Can I give you some advice? Don’t be an idiot. Whatever you did, make it right. If Lola truly is like my wife, which I suspect she is, she needs someone who won’t be deterred by anything. And those kinds of men are few and far between.”
Beau hadn’t been deterred by anything yet. Not Johnny, not Lola’s resistance to his offer, not the fact that in order to win her love and win his game, he’d had to open up to her in a way he never had to anyone—not even Brigitte, who was like family.
Beau only focused on challenges that held a prize worthy of everything he had. He’d wanted his pride back. He’d wanted to redeem himself of the one failure he’d never overcome. But now it began to dawn on Beau—maybe he’d made the mistake of ignoring what was truly at stake. And maybe he’d been fighting for the wrong prize all along.
5
The front door of Lola’s apartment was unlocked, and she walked right in.
Johnny sprang instantly from the couch. “The sun’s been up over an hour.” He met her at the door, clasping her shoulders. “Are you all right?”
She looked into his earnest face. His concern was clear, but it was also overdue. Any number of things could’ve happened to Lola overnight. She could’ve been kidnapped by a crazy gunman and whisked away in a pricey sports car. She could’ve encountered a stilted admirer from ten years ago who’d never let go of his grudge. Considering whom she and Johnny were dealing with, being late at all was actually a perfectly valid cause for alarm.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“I was worried. I thought about calling the cops.”
“Did you?”
“Well…no.” His eyebrows lowered. “What would I have told them?”
Maybe that she’d spent the night with the devil himself?
“I don’t know,” she said, wriggling out of his grip. The glass coffee table shook when she set the package of money on it. She stretched her aching arms and rolled her wrists. “We got into an argument. I refused a ride, so I walked.”
“From where?”
“The hotel.”
Johnny cocked his head. “He took you to a hotel? Doesn’t he live in L.A.?”
Lola stared at him a moment. Johnny was a pretty big guy. He wasn’t quite as tall as Beau, but he was meatier. He should’ve been the one to keep her safe in the gas station, but he hadn’t even been there. She would’ve been there for Johnny. She never would’ve let him go off with a stranger. All so he could buy a fucking bar.
She was already heated from her walk. The more she’d thought about all the wrongs done to her by both men, the faster she’d strode and the higher her temper had risen. She knew what she had to do—what she wanted to do—but in all her anger, she hadn’t stopped to figure this part out yet.
She turned away from Johnny, and her eyes landed on several days’ worth of mail scattered on the counter. She’d start there. She walked over and sorted quickly through it, grabbing anything addressed to her.
“Was the hotel nearby at least?” Johnny asked.
“Beverly Hills.”
“That’s miles away.”
She was well aware. She returned to the coffee table and dropped some envelopes next to the cash.
“I would’ve picked you up,” Johnny said, following her from room to room. “You should’ve called.”
She faced him, and her heart clenched. He could be so clueless. His simplicity was one of the things she loved about him except when she needed him to not be that. Like now, when what she was about to do would be that much harder because he had no idea it was coming.
She wrung her hands. “Johnny—”
He waited. “Yeah?”
Her heartbeat ping-ponged at the same rate as her thoughts. There was no right way to say I care about you, but you screwed me over, but I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t stay here anymore. Was it fair that maybe some small part of her might want to hurt him for this? Did she even owe him an explanation? Had he just sat here on his ass all night, staring at a wall as she’d been bound, fucked, wooed, robbed, loved and then broken? Her chest stuttered with a deep breath, her fear ebbing slightly as anger took over again.
“I couldn’t call you,” she said. “My purse was stolen last night, and my phone was in it.”
“Stolen? What the hell happened?” He let her pass to the bedroom. “Lola, for God’s sake, stop moving around and talk to me.”
She turned around. It was a plea, not an order, but she was tired of being told what to do. Just because Johnny didn’t do things the same way as Beau didn’t mean he hadn’t also treated her like a pawn. Not giving her a straight answer, forcing her to make the decision for both of them—that was how he’d manipulated her. She hadn’t seen it clearly at the time, but now it was all she saw.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she said, her eyes narrowed.
He pulled back a little. “What? I’m not. I just want you to slow down, and tell me what’s going on.”
“Why should I? Do you honestly care how my night went?”
He raised his eyebrows and scoffed in a way that sounded like a laugh—as though she’d made a joke. “Of course I care. What kind of a question is that? You’re acting like—” He stopped. His neck reddened around the collar of his T-shirt. “Holy shit. Did you…did he give you something?”
Beau had given her lots of things. Almost as many as he’d taken. But she didn’t think that was what Johnny meant. “Like what?”
“You’re not yourself. You can’t stand still, and you look at me like you don’t recognize me. No matter how long it’s been, I haven’t forgotten how you get when you’re high.”
Her mouth fell open. High? She wasn’t high. She was pissed. Johnny would jump to that conclusion at the first sign of her old self. Spending two nights with Beau had reminded her of the girl she used to be. As Beau had embraced that about her, it became clearer that Johnny never had. He didn’t like her wild.
The accusation was so offensive, she couldn’t even deny it. The man she loved acted as though he didn’t even know her. If she’d changed over the years, maybe he had too. Or maybe it was that she’d cared so fiercely about him, was so grateful to him, that she hadn’t seen the truth. He wasn’t etched into her heart, woven into her soul. She didn’t feel him in her every movement—it wasn’t his love that coursed through her veins like blood.
She went to the hallway closet and slid a cardboard box from the top shelf.
“What’re you doing?” he asked.
She crouched, lifted the lid and fingered through some folders until she found one labeled Important Papers—Lola. She took it, along with her passport and a credit card she’d filed away earlier that year when she and Johnny had opened a joint account.
“Did you hear me?” he persisted. “I asked what the fuck you’re on.”
She stood up. The papers rustled as she clutched them. “I’m not high, and you have no right to ask me that.”
“I have every right. It’s the only explanation. It’s just like those nights you used to come into Hey Joe after an especially rough shift.”
Her mouth tingled, bitterness on her tongue. She’d barely been an adult back then—she’d fucked up just like every other teenager. Why was she paying for those mistakes now? Everything in her body was tight, and if he kept plucking at her, she would snap.
“Look at you—you’re shaking,” Johnny said. “Your eyes are watering, your hair’s a mess—”
“My ey
es are watering from lack of sleep and because cars have been kicking dirt into my face for the last hour. I’m shaking because I just carried five hundred thousand dollars over two miles.”
“If I’d known, I would’ve picked you up. I told you that. Don’t take it out on me.”
As if he hadn’t played a role in any of this. As if her anger was completely out of left field. “Fuck you, Johnny. Just fuck you.”
His eyes doubled in size. “Fuck me? Why?”
“You know why.” She continued to their room and grabbed a duffel bag from the closet.
“You come in here like a tornado, get me all worked up and say fuck me?”
“You used me. Both of you.” She was practically shuddering now. “Everybody got what they wanted, even me, but at what price?”
Johnny threw both hands in the air. “Seriously, what the fuck? That’s completely unfair. We made every decision together.”
“I made every decision. By myself. I had to decide how much money I was worth.”
“Bullshit. We both knew it was just an exchange. It was never about what you were worth. I didn’t ask you to do this.”
“You didn’t ask me not to.” She ripped articles of clothing off their hangers and stuffed them into the bag. “What choice did I have? If I’d said no, you would’ve always resented me for the life we could’ve had. I did this for us.”
“And you didn’t enjoy it at all, did you?” His lips compressed into a line. “You practically jumped at the chance do it again.”
Her throat closed. He wasn’t wrong—she’d been clinging to the lie that she hadn’t wanted to go back to Beau. What did that make her? What did that make Johnny? If he’d even suspected she’d wanted this and he still hadn’t stopped her, then he’d gambled with her.
“Just admit that you liked it,” he said. “A million-dollar price tag made you feel pretty damn special.”
“Special?” She could barely get the word out, her head burning like her entire body was on fire. She slammed her fists on the bed. “You think having two men use me to boost their egos is special? I have a stranger’s cum on my pants and more money than I know what to do with. Does that make me special?”
“Jesus Christ.” Johnny staggered back. “Like I need that fucking mental image.”
“Yeah?” She grabbed a stack of his jeans from a shelf and threw them on the ground. “Well, at least you didn’t live through it!”
“I did live through it,” he said. “Except I had to use my imagination. All the things he was getting for his money. Tell me what they were, Lola. Why you? What did you give him that someone else couldn’t?”
She shook her head. He had no idea the mental images she could give him—like the one where Beau had seduced her in to fucking him every which way while he plotted how to hurt her the most. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. You can’t handle details.”
“Try me.”
“I know you, Johnny. Just let it go. It’s not worth—”
“I can handle it,” he said, raising his voice. “What was he like? Was it better? What did you let him do?”
Lola’s body tightened at just the threat of a memory. As if she’d had any control over what Beau did to her. Once the sun went down, her body had become his. It’d breathed for him, thrummed for him, come for him. And he’d been thorough with each inch of her, leaving no part untouched.
“Everything,” she said levelly.
He shook his head hard. “I don’t believe you.”
“Everything one man can do to one woman, he did to me. My mouth, my pussy, my ass. He had it all.”
“You let him—?” Johnny reached back, grasping at nothing. “But you never…you wouldn’t—for years I’ve asked you for that. He got it in two nights?”
“That’s what you sold him. Don’t act like you didn’t know. You were there for the negotiation.”
“And you promised me you were safe—that he didn’t force you into anything.”
She’d protected Johnny too long. No matter what he thought, he hadn’t lived through what she had. He had to accept his share of the blame for everything that’d happened the last few weeks. “He didn’t take a thing, Johnny. He waited for me to come to him, and I did. I gave him what he wanted.”
“Liar,” he said. “You can enjoy it, but you can’t want it. That’s not fair.”
“It wasn’t just sex for me. It was more.”
Johnny pointed at the duffel bag. “Is that what this is about? You’re going to see him again?”
“No. This is about you and me.” While Beau might’ve been the catalyst behind their breakup, he wasn’t the reason. He had his own sins to pay for, but she couldn’t blame him for this. “I’m not the girl you want. I tried so hard, I honestly thought I was all these years. But I need more. I don’t want to spend my life doing something mediocre, like working at Hey Joe. It doesn’t make me happy.”
“Mediocre?” he repeated. “Oh. I see. One night with a millionaire and suddenly you’re too good for me. That’s just bullshit.” He picked her bag up off the bed and held it to his side. “I know you’re angry. So am I. But stop and think about what you’re saying.”
Lola tried to take the bag. “We’re finished—”
“No.” He pulled the duffel back and went to block the doorway. “You don’t just fall out of love overnight because you slept with someone else.”
“I already told you, this isn’t about him. You fucked up, and because of that, I see the truth. What we have is easy. I love and care about you, Johnny, but I’m not in love with you.” She tried to get by him, but he stayed where he was. “Give me my bag. I’m leaving.”
He visibly tried to speak, but nothing came. He opened and closed his free hand as if grasping for something.
“Johnny. Move.” She shoved him aside, and he dropped the bag to grab her wrists. They struggled for a second and then both stopped, their breathing labored. Neither of them moved as they stared at each other.
He released her. “Don’t do this.”
She hoisted the bag off the ground and walked down the hallway.
“Amanda blew me in the stockroom,” he yelled. “I guess that means I fell out of love with you too. Is that how it works?”
Lola’s heart dropped. Her hand went automatically to her stomach as she turned around. “Amanda?”
He ran a hand over his hair, also looking like he might be sick. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”
Lola could’ve smacked the pathetic, somehow smug, look off his paling face. She hadn’t thought him capable of cheating, but the last few weeks, he’d been a different person. A weaker one. It didn’t surprise her as much as it should’ve.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“You piece of shit.”
He shrugged, but he looked anything but casual. “I needed someone, and she was there.”
Lola’s eyebrows weighed heavy. She was too livid to feel hurt. “And where was I?” she asked. “Screwing another man to give you your dream.”
“Oh, don’t fucking kid yourself. You’re the only one who gets to have a little fun on the side?” His face fell. He walked toward her, but she backed away. “I drank a handle trying to forget what you were doing. It didn’t even put a dent in me, Lo. I tried to stop her. I pushed her away. It meant nothing.”
It meant everything—a permanent nail in their coffin. “It’s not nothing to me. You gave me away twice, and now you sealed your fate. What if I’d come home, and we’d moved on with our lives? Did you think I could forgive this?”
“Yes, because it was all I had. I was desperate. I’ve never been as miserable as I was last night.”
“Poor fucking baby.” She scoffed. “I can’t believe Beau was right about you.”
“About me?” He touched his chest. “What did he tell you?”
“He said resentment makes people do ugly things—like cheat on their loved ones. He said you’d do that.”
“Tha
t’s rich coming from him of all people,” Johnny said. “You let him talk about me that way?”
“You don’t seem to understand,” Lola said evenly. “I don’t let him do or not do anything. He does and says what he wants. Did I think he was completely crazy for saying that? Yes. But apparently I was the crazy one for thinking I could trust you.”
“This is such bullshit. And I was supposed to trust you after finding out you actually enjoyed sleeping with someone else? By my count, I’d say we’re about even.”
Her jaw tingled. She was disgusted with the whole thing—Johnny and that desperate slut. “Asshole. Did you stick your dick anywhere other than her mouth last night?”
“No.”
“Did you finish? Come all over her? I bet she just gobbled it up. How many times have you done this behind my back?”
“Never. You know me better than that.”
“I don’t know anything or anyone anymore.” She turned and left the hallway. “You can all go to hell.”
“Where are you going?”
She had no idea. She just had to get out of there as soon as possible. She transferred everything from the coffee table into her bag. “I’m taking my half of the money.”
“Lola, come on. Don’t do this. I’ll go to Mark’s and give you some space to cool off. We’ll figure this out when we both calm down.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “You know it’s over. Don’t act like I’m the only reason we’re through. You had to have known at some point this could happen.”
“I didn’t. I swear. Did you?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. He could only be that oblivious if he was shrouded in denial. “Yes,” she admitted.
“When? Did you know this could end us before you left the apartment last night?”
She turned to face him completely. For nine years, she’d believed Johnny was the one. She would’ve married him if he’d asked. She’d wanted his children. She’d convinced herself that what she’d done for him—maturing, settling down—was something everyone did at some point. It was hard to believe that not only had she not questioned that, but that it’d only taken her two nights with Beau to wake up.
Explicitly Yours Series Page 34