Page 141 of Now and Forever

“While you weigh this out, are you’re going to keep seeing other people?”

“Why? Is that what you want?”

Typical, answering a question with a question. My answer was both a yes and a no. A part of me wanted to see other people, too. Drew could wake up one day and realize he didn’t want me, after all.

“How about I propose that we see other people without involving sex.” The last part was to ensure he wouldn’t continue his nighttime festivities, because he was one active fucker, pun intended.

“You’re proposing this because you still want Spencer around.” It wasn’t a question.

“Quite possibly.” It was neither right nor wrong, but a truthful maybe.

“I don’t want him near you, Chloe. How many times do I have to keep telling you?” he whispered, his eyes glued to my lips, contemplating something. “What can I do to change your mind?”

He was implying sex. Damn him for playing dirty.

“Don’t use sex as a weapon to get what you want.”

He brushed his lips along my cheek until he reached my ear and said, “I can and I will to protect what’s mine.” His possessiveness made me want him all the more. “Do you still remember how it feels to have my cock inside you, Chloe?”

Cock.

He just said cock, and my pussy became sopping wet. Drew had never once spoken to me in such a way before. I couldn’t help being turned on by his crudeness.

“I remember the sting, but you took me gently. You were very cautious …” I recalled the time I had seen him with that model in his room and the blinding jealousy that had consumed me every time I thought of him with another woman. “But I know you don’t fuck like that. You fuck like you’re owning them, marking them as yours so they keep coming back.”

“You’re different,” he stated with guarded eyes. “You’re not like them. I don’t want to treat you like you’re one of them.”

“But sex is better with them. That’s why you can easily resist me: because you can get it better elsewhere.” Jealousy was a lousy bitch.

“It’s not like that at all—” His phone rang loudly, interrupting us. We waited for what seemed like an eternity until it went to voicemail, and just when he was about to resume his speech, it went off again.

“You really should get that.”

“Fuck.” He exasperatedly pulled out his phone, checking whom the caller was, and unknowingly, a fat wad of crisp Benjamins flew out of his pocket.

My eyes bulged out. It could have easily been about ten to fifteen grand right there—in his pocket. Who in their right mind carried that much money in their pocket? More to the point, where was he getting all this money from? I knew he had a small inheritance after his mom died, but with tuition costs and living expenses, I doubted there would be much left to be rolling in the deep like he was.

While he busied himself with a text to whomever it was, I slowly shifted my foot so I didn’t have to put pressure on the bad one while I bent to pluck the brand new money off the carpet. It was so new it still bore the scent of newly printed money. I should know since my grandmother used to gift me three hundred dollars each birthday with brand new bills. She was cute and quirky like that with a sense of humor to match.

“I’m sorry about that.” He sighed, looking up and seeing me holding the money in my hands.

“It fell out of your pocket.” Handing him back his cash, I watched as he placed it back in his jeans along with the phone. “You’re not doing anything illegal, are you?” My voice shook as I gazed worriedly at him.

He was perplexed and insulted. “You can’t be seriously asking me that?”

“I am, actually.” Serious as a heart attack.

“No, Chloe, I’m not doing anything illegal.” He blew out a breath, looking at me with a contorted expression. “Wow, I can’t believe you just said that.”

“I’m sorry, but it worries me, you know. After your mom and grandma died, I’m sure it’s been hard for you. I mean, if you need anything, Dad would be more than happy to help. You know he would.”

“Thank you, but I don’t need anyone’s charity,” he said in a clipped tone.

It was a touchy subject, and I felt awful for questioning him, but someone had to. He practically had no family left.

“Why are you home? Didn’t you guys watch basketball? Where’s Jacks?” Here was to hoping that changing subjects would make that astonished look on his face disappear. I couldn’t stand him thinking that I thought lowly of him.

“Why am I home?” he asked in a far-away, distant voice, as if he couldn’t fathom why, either. “I had this idea that maybe I should stop by and bring you some dinner before I went out to meet some friends for a drink.” He pointed toward the paper bag that had been left on the floor, the very spot where he had stood to confront Spencer and me. “It looks like you’ve already had dinner, so you can keep it in the fridge or throw it away if you want.” He was becoming distant. I could feel him pulling away from me, and I had no idea how to stop it.

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