Page 56 of Fool's Gold

I led her on and took her virginity when I had no fucking business doing so.

Later, she’ll see this is the right move for her, and I’ve got to be the one strong enough to make it.

“We can’t be together.”

Every word is a gunshot going off, and despite the liquor burning down to my gut, nothing helps. I’m dead.

The numbness spreads from my toes up my ankles toward my torso.

“You’re being a—” she starts, her voice clogged, wet. Close to tears she has every right to release.

“You can stop with the name-calling. I know.” I drop down on the cushions, legs splayed, arms across the back of the couch.

If there is a book of curses, my picture is in there somewhere. I’m all of them and more for what I’ve done to her.

Maintaining my death grip on the bottle, I turn to face her, expecting fire to go along with her rage.

She tips her head to the floor, and the blanket of golden hair hides her expression.

“You know what?” she whispers. “I’m done.”

I hide my jerk of surprise with a sneer. “You’ve finally gotten my point.”

I brace for impact, ready for whatever horrible thing she has to say that I definitely deserve.

But nothing comes. She says none of the curses or names I expect, only slinks back toward the threshold, maintaining a wide berth. Like she can’t stand to be in the same room with me anymore. My gaze trails her down the hallway toward her room, and in the silence, the click of her door closing, followed by her lock snapping into place, is loud.

Like the crack of a bone breaking.

I down the rest of the bottle on my way to my room, so near to her I hear her sobs even through the thickness of the walls.

I had no right to get involved. I knew it going into this, and with every thrust inside her tight little pussy, I dug a deeper hole for myself. Breaking her heart had always been part of the plans because it was inevitable.

The mattress absorbs me when I flop back, staring at the pristine ceiling.

A terrible mistake has been made.

It’s carved out a void inside me and left everything I am in her tender hands, but she has no idea.

I did what I have to do.

Why does it feel this fucking horrible?

There’s no chance of me sleeping, not even drunk. Every time I roll over, I’m ready to get out of bed and cross the hall to tell her I’m sorry.

It’s the one thing I can’t do.

As expected, I drag myself out of bed before the sun rises. The coffee machine will have to be my lifeline for the day.

The guards I’ve hired to escort Empire to the studio will arrive at six. Which gives me about an hour to get to my office and figure out the rest of Parker’s absolutely fucked budget.

Seeing the entryway to my office sans Sherry has taken a little getting used to. Normally Celeste shows up within a few minutes of my arrival. Whether it’s planned or one of her happy accidents, it’s impossible to say.

It’s no surprise when I hear a knock at my office door seconds after settling in my chair. Celeste is ballsy and efficient, I’ll give her that. She saunters inside without waiting for me to give the go-ahead and poses in the doorway with her hip cocked to the side.

“Time is running out, you know,” she starts.

Today she’s wearing a sheath dress the color of pewter, sleek lines cut to emphasize her slender frame.

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