My heart aches as the realisation we can never be sinks in.
BROCK
When Jade walks away from me for a second time, I’m consumed with hurt and anger. I’m not used to being told no. I hate that I’m hung up on someone who clearly isn’t interested in me. Maybe she’s my karma for all the hearts I’ve broken over the years. I sigh, tilt my head towards the sky and send the karma gods a huge ‘Fuck you.’ I walk down the side of the house and out the side gate. I can’t go back to that party. I’ll just text Theo later and tell him an emergency came up and I had to leave suddenly.
Once I’m in my Lamborghini, I rest my head on the steering wheel, trying to rein my emotions in. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to leave because Jade’s still here. Fuck, I’m pathetic.
When I feel calm enough to drive, I start the ignition. Something doesn’t add up here. If she knows Theo is gay, why is she with him? Maybe he’s bisexual. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial Josh’s number.
I’m driving through the gates and turning onto the street by the time he picks up.
‘Bro,’ he says when he answers.
‘What’s the go with the Theo?’ I ask.
‘What? Why?’
‘I thought he was gay?’
‘He is.’
‘Then explain to me why I just met his girlfriend?’
Josh chuckles. ‘She’s his fake girlfriend. I told you he was still in the closet.’
‘What do you mean “fake girlfriend”?’
‘He hires her. She’s an escort.’
I screech to a stop. Not Jade. It can’t be true, even if it explains her reluctance to talk to me—and everything else, come to think of it.
‘Brock? Are you still there?’
‘I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you later.’
Jesus. It can’t be fucking true. I need to get to the bottom of this once and for all. Maybe then at the very least, I can move on. Turning the car around, I head back to the party to look for her.
Finally I see her sitting under the cabana, smiling as she watches the people in the pool. It kills me that she looks so happy when I feel so fucking miserable. Damn her and this whole situation to hell.
I greedily drink in her luscious body. I hate that she’s so skimpily dressed in front of all these men, and I hate that I have to control my urge to take off my shirt and cover her up. Of course that babe in the red bikini earlier reminded me of her—it was her. Knowing I was drawn to her before I even knew who she was really messes with my head. What is it with this woman?
If what Josh says is true, she probably gets around in far less far more often. That thought fills me with rage. I move towards her and stop only when I’m standing beside her chair. She’s so engrossed in watching the others she doesn’t even notice me. I take a few more seconds to drink in her beauty before I clear my throat. Her head immediately snaps in my direction.
‘I need to talk to you. You can come willingly, or I can make a scene. Your choice.’ No more Mr Nice Guy. That ship sailed the minute I got off the phone with my brother.
‘About what?’ she asks hesitantly.
I don’t reply. Instead I turn and walk back to the house. For her sake, she better be following me. I meant what I said. I’ll make a damn scene if I have to. I need to know the truth.
When I enter the house, I spot a small corridor leading away from the main thoroughfare, so I head in that direction. Rubbing my face with my hands, I come to a stop at the end of the hall and turn around. I’m relieved when I find her approaching me. Smart girl. She stops when she’s about a metre away, looking unsure of herself as her arms snake around her torso. How could this sweet woman be a whore? I just can’t see it. Josh must be mistaken.
I try to think of the right words to say. I need to be careful how I put this, just in case I’ve got it all wrong. Unfortunately my brain and my mouth don’t seem to be connected today, because what actually comes out shocks even me.
‘You’re a hooker?’ I step closer and grab hold of her arm as I back her into the wall. Her pretty eyes widen. When her face drops and her mouth gapes open in shock, there’s no need for a reply. I already know the answer. Disappointment floods me.
I’m gutted. The woman of my dreams is a fucking prostitute.
Letting go of her arm, my hands rake through my hair as I look at the ceiling. Devastation consumes me. I knew there was something about her, something she was hiding from me, but never in my wildest dreams did I entertain the idea it would be this. If anything was stopping her from being with me, I would’ve guessed it was a strict family. Her family—do they even know their daughter sleeps with strangers for a living?