Reading Online Novel

Behind the Scenes(57)



A man like Simon Mulroney only expects a small amount — sex, a fun afternoon — and so he often leaves satisfied. I want so much more than the light stuff and always end up feeling short changed. It happened at Bronson Caves, and it happened in his office.

And it will happen again and again if I let it.

I stand up, knocking his hand to the side as I do so. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to go home.”

He stares at me for a second, seemingly confused, and then rises as well. “I can take you.”

“I can take myself,” I grit through clenched teeth. “Eryk, can you take Crystal home with you?”

Eryk nods, the expression on his face mirroring Mr. Mulroney’s. “Yeah.”

I don’t look at Brendan. After his attitude tonight, I don’t care what he’s feeling or thinking. I can excuse Eryk because he’s been my friend for a long time, there for me through thick and thin. Brendan, on the other hand, just walked back into my life after years away, and for some reason seems to think I’ve just been twiddling my thumbs, waiting anxiously for his return so he can sweep me back to Hillbilly Holler.

“Excuse me,” I say to Mr. Mulroney.

He moves out of the way, but his face makes it clear he knows I’m not leaving because of a stomach ache. Hot tears are already forming in my eyes, and I need to at least make it to the sidewalk before I flat out bawl.

I push my way past him and through the door. I’m only a few steps down the street when someone comes out behind me.

“Sydney!” Mr. Mulroney calls.

I slow down a bit, but then remind myself that’s a mistake and keep walking. He runs up and falls into step next to me. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t look at him. “Stop saying that. You do whatever you want to do, Mr. Mulroney, but your lifestyle just isn’t for me.”

He steps in front of me and I halt.

“I do kind of like it when you call me Mr. Mulroney,” he whispers.

With a growl, I push past him. He stops me again with a hand on my wrist.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

I blink back the tears. They still haven’t fallen, and now that he’s here I refuse to let them. “There’s nothing you can do to lighten the mood. Just let me be.”

“I do care for you.” The words are warm and low.

“Not enough.”

“Sydney…”

I place my hand on my hip, but don’t pull my other arm out of his grasp. “What?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t.”

Before my eyes, his entire demeanor changes. He stands up straighter and inches closer to me. His breath comes down onto my face in hot waves.

“Come back to my house with me,” he says. “I would do the sweetest things to you.”

Despite the positive way my body responds to his promise, I stand my ground. “That’s impossible. You don’t know the first thing about being sweet.”

“You haven’t given me the chance,” he says, his voice taking on a slight hardness.

I stare at him. “Each day is a new chance to be sweet and kind, and for some reason, you don’t take those opportunities. I don’t understand anything about you, other than the fact that you’re callous. Do you not remember everything that happened the first day we met? What am I supposed to think of you?”

His face sets into a grimace. “You weren’t exactly a princess your first day.”

I snatch my wrist out of his hand. “You are such an asshole!” A couple walks by, staring at me yelling, but I don’t care. “You just showed up tonight out of nowhere and started acting like you own me. And yet you can’t give me anything of real substance, so how can you possibly think that I’m yours?”

“How do you know that? How do you know I can’t give you anything?”

Every negative emotion known to humankind flashes through me. “Because, from the beginning, you treated me like I was worthless,” I whisper.

He edges forward, so close I have to tilt my head to look up at him. “I was a fool. You showed me you’re capable and smart.”

“Even if I weren’t those things, that would be no reason for you to treat me any less well,” I whisper back up at him.

Sadness glints in his eyes. “I know.”

“So why do you do it? Why are you so callous?”

He twists his head away from me and looks down the street. “You don’t want me to answer that.”

I scoff. “I just asked you, so I’m pretty sure I do want an answer.”

“There are things you don’t understand.” His jaw hardens. “You’re not old enough yet.”