Page 91 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

“I see what you did there. Both. Either.”

“Sometimes I get tired from the driving and one too many Holiday Inns. But I like meeting new people.”

I could see that—he gave every impression of being incredibly approachable when he wasn’t popping up out of nowhere to be allLuke, I am your fatherat you. “And you rock selling that software to librarians, huh?”

“So I’ve been told.” He resettled his glasses. Which was one of those gestures I just couldn’t quite process—it was vulnerable, somehow, offering this flash of his naked eyes. “I certainly seem to have been successful at it.”

“Uhh…” Why had this suddenly got difficult? I guess I wasn’t as good at talking to people asmy dad. “And, like, it’s what you want to be doing?”

Flash of a smile again. “I’m not sure anyone entertains a childhood dream of working in sales. But I’ve tried very hard since—I’ve tried very hard to build a worthwhile life for myself. I have a job, I have a house, I don’t drink anymore. From where I started, that means quite a lot.”

“Where you…started?”

“I wouldn’t want you to think I’m looking for sympathy, Arden. My life was in a bad place. Now it isn’t.”

“You mean”—I swallowed, highly aware there was an emotional viper pit directly under my feet and I was about to plunge straight into it, but utterly unable not to—“with Mum and me?”

Jonas shifted in obvious discomfort. “I don’t think we think should talk about that. I don’t want to keep anything from you, but I don’t think it would be right.”

Yes. I agreed. I very much agreed. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why had I even asked? The thing is, I didn’t actually want to know. But I guess I…I…did? Mainly so I could reassure myself he wasn’t still obsessed with my mum, and in talking to him now, I wasn’t being the worst son in the world. “S-sorry,” I mumbled. “I don’t…that is…it’s not my business.”

“It was complicated. I was drinking too much. I behaved terribly. But”—he gave a tight little shrug—“I was young, I was messed up. Iris was the only woman I’ve ever loved and I was losing her.”

“O-okay.”

“It was a long time ago.”

I nodded, relieved. “Are you seeing anyone now?”

“I have a lady in Manchester I’ve been on a couple of dates with. It’s early days.” He folded his hands around his cup of tea and took a deep sip. “What about you? There’s definitely nothing with your friend from the article?”

“Definitely nothing. I mean, I’ve got a few casual things going on but”—I sighed—“I’m kind of just out of a thing. Well, not just out. It’s been months. But it still feelsjust, if you know what I mean.”

“I do, I absolutely do. Want to tell me about it?”

I’d blithered on about Caspian to everyone I knew—up to the point that I’d had to make a conscious decision to stop because I was sucking on the energy of my friends and loved ones like a ginormous parasite. So I don’t know if I was just desperate to get mywhining about my ex-boyfriendfix or I’d inadvertently turned boring people about my breakup into a habit. But there I was, telling Jonas, “He dumped me.”

“I dislike him already.”

That made me laugh, if slightly guiltily. “It’s…complicated.”

He nodded. “These things tend to be.”

“He’d gone through some stuff, like some pretty horrible, fucked-up stuff, which made him feel we couldn’t be together.”

Jonas made a sympathetic noise.

And honestly, I’d talked about Caspian with way less encouragement. “It messes with my head because…I don’t know…I’d hate it but I’d get it if he just didn’t love me or want to be with me.” Oh wow. Was I going to cry in Starbuckstwice? Thankfully, I managed to keep it to messy sniffles. “But it’s this other thing. Basically, what it comes down to is I lost my boyfriend for reasons beyond my control that have nothing to do with me. And that’s…I know this sounds pathetic, but it’s notfair.”

“I agree. It’s very difficult.” Jonas let out a long, slow breath. “And I’m sorry for whatever your ex went through.”

“So am I. I’m sorry for everything.”

“It’s not your responsibility, Arden.”

I sighed. “I get that. It’s still a rubbish reason to have broken up, though. Because of something someone else did.”

“I can see where you’re coming from.” There was something about the way he was looking at me, with that steady, softly glowing gaze, which—in that moment—made me really believe him. And it was a powerful sort of rush: feeling not just nebulously sympathised with but fully understood. “I know,” he said, “how painful it is to be forced to live with someone else’s decisions, particularly when those decisions affect you directly but you’re prevented from participating in them.”

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