Page 38 of A Much Younger Man
“No. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“This.” For the first time, I simply didn’t believe him. It made me look back on how easily he’d worked his way into my life. Into my business and now my house. What had he learned from Tug, who I was certain had seen me as someone to manipulate and squeeze for cash and whatever else he could get? I’d avoided him because he couldn’t hide it. What if Beck could? “I’m not that guy. You don’t need to play me for me to help you out, okay?”
“What?” As if I’d struck him, he asked, “Why would you even think something like that?”
“Because I’m not a tool. I’ll feed you dinner. I’m happy to help you. You don’t have to flatter me for that.”
“That’s what you think? I’m flattering you, because…why? Because I want stuff from you? You already paid for my guitar. You said I don’t owe you. Oh wow. I didn’t think I could feel any worse than when Tug stole my shit.” He snapped his fingers and Callie immediately molded herself to his side. “C’mon girl.”
“Beck, look—”
“No, you look.” He whirled to face me. “You did what you did with the guitar, and I—I’m really grateful. But it makes things complicated and weird for me too. I don’t even know why you did it, and if you don’t trust me to be nice without an ulterior motive, then I don’t trust you when you say you don’t want anything in return.”
“I don’t. It wasn’t just me, you know. Cooper and Shawn helped too.”
“They’re just helping me because you asked them to.” He slipped on his backpack and packed up his instrument.
“That’s not true.”
“I thought you saw me.Me.” He made a fist on his chest. “Not the fuckup or the dirty homeless guy. The rescue dog and his hapless human pal.”
“I—I did. I do. And you don’t need to act like I’m some…I don’t even know what. Some old guy who’s buying your ass.”
“Tugsold his ass. Not me.” He clipped Callie’s leash on and walked her to the door. “Never me.”
“I’m sorry—”
“You’re not oblivious. You’re fucked up.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but it didn’t matter because he went out and shut the door between us. I wouldn’t have known what to say anyway.
I overreacted, maybe.
Oh, Christ. I did.
I couldn’t imagine someone as delightful as Beck—as gorgeous, as talented, as young—could want me. There. I said it. How could someone like Beck see me as anything more than a…a sugar daddy. I’d spoon-fed him for God’s sake. That wasn’t me. That was just…needy and creepy and…of coursehe was playing me.
He’d hurt my feelings by trying to make me believe otherwise. He’d wounded my pride, and I’d lashed out at him for it. Good for me, not taking that shit from someone half my age.
Good for me, not letting myself be taken for atrick.
Because I was right. I had to be right.
But if I was wrong…oh my God.
If I was wrong, I’d regret the things I’d said forever.
