Page 78 of Inflame

“How much will you have to pay?”

“Quarter of a million.”

“Are you drunk?” I snap. “Lost your ever-loving mind?”

“Neither. For one, I wasn’t expecting to lose. Second, I thought you would be fine with this. He just wants to watch. Not join in. Not take pictures or video. Just watch. Also, he’s not a stranger.”

“That makes it worse!” I yell.

“Whatever. You always make things bigger deals than they need to be. I’m really not in the mood for your drama.”

He is so casual about all of this that I want to scream. I want to hit him. I put my head in my hands and just focus on breathing. Steady breaths. In. Out. When I marginally calm down, I look over at him and ask, “Why? Why does he want to watch?”

He shrugs. “Probably gets off on the whole voyeurism thing.”

Ew. Ew. Ew!

I cannot believe I am in the middle of all of this mess. This trip has drastically taken a turn for the worse since Ethan has arrived. Nothing will ever be the same again.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” I admit. “You know”—I pause—“perform.”

“Just lie there. I got so fucking hard after the amazing blow job you gave me, I won’t last long in your snatch.”

His words should turn me on. But they make me dry up. I want to close in on myself. It is like I want to build a shell around me to protect my body and heart from any more pain. I should run. I should get up and just walk right out and let him deal with the aftermath of breaking a bet with Nic Hoffman. This was not my plan I set into motion. I am simply part of a predicament I never asked to be in. But instead, I find my head nodding. Agreeing.

He hops up from the bed and kisses my forehead. “You’re the best, babe.”

I don’t feel the best. I feel used. Like my body was auctioned off for the viewing pleasure of someone else. I feel disgusted and disrespected.

“Let’s get this over with.”

23

NIC

I don’t go through life thinking I’m not an asshole. I know I’m one.

But if anything puts a spotlight on the cracks in Claire and Ethan’s crumbling relationship, it will be this one moment in time.

I watch from my chair as Claire gets herself situated on the bed. Ethan strips down to nothing, and I try to zone him out from my view. I only focus on the sexual goddess who has my heart wrapped up in knots. Her hair is splayed out over the white pillow, her lacy top still highlighting and accentuating the swell of her breasts. She is perfection.

But even though my conscience knows why I’m doing this, I still struggle with the impact it will have on her life.

Ethan doesn’t deserve her. And he probably never did.

I know the fucker has been emotionally abusing her for months. He probably didn’t start out that way, using his charm to elevate her to feeling like they had some future together. But I know better.

People confuse my laid-back attitude for someone who doesn’t care. But I fucking care.

I care about getting Claire away from someone who nitpicks what she eats, puts her down in public settings, and crushes whatever hope she has that men aren’t all assholes.

But I’m not so stupid that I don’t see the irony. Sure, I want her. I’ve been wanting her ever since I saw her untamed excitement over dressing up in costumes for holidays and random occasions. I’ve been wanting her ever since she came prancing into the cafe with her multicolored pens and her top ten lists. I’ve been wanting her from afar up until this trip.

But then Ethan showed up. And everything changed.

Is changing…

Will change forever.

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