“Honestly.” I frown in thought. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.”
“Okay. Interesting.” He wipes his hands off on a napkin before taking a swig of beer. There’s a masculine grace to even his simplest movements. And the way his throat works when he swallows. I’m more than a little gaga over this man. “Selah, huh? The story of Selah is, my father decided she’d make a great starter wife. Looked good, had a trust fund, came from the right family, wouldn’t give them too much trouble over the prenup. So he talked Rachel into giving her an internship and then set about putting Selah in my path. Like an idiot I fell for it, even bought her a ring.”
“Did Selah know about your father’s plan?”
“That she did. His people had given her all of the inside information. My likes and dislikes. Places I went, things I did, people I’d dated, that sort of thing.”
“Shit.”
“Indeed.” He turns his head, staring out at the city lights and the mountains in the distance. It’s a breathtaking view though it has nothing on him. His expression, however, is a long way from happy. “Selah was all-in for the status and wealth of marrying an Elliot. It was Rachel who put two and two together and started asking the right questions. She and Dad had this huge fight. Then Selah finally admitted everything to me and…yeah.”
“Did she love you?”
“Does it matter?”
“But you obviously loved her, right?” I ask. “I mean, you bought her a ring.”
Beck’s forehead furrows. “I don’t know. I think she made sense to me, more than anything. She fit into the life my father and I supposedly had planned out. My great big successful future as part of the Elliot dynasty. Not exactly romantic, but there you have it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. If I hadn’t gone through that then I might not have seen how small my world was and what a cold emotionless void my future was shaping up to be. I was turning out just like dear old Dad. The things we do to please people, huh?”
“But you and her never lived together?”
His tongue plays behind his cheek. “No. She suggested it several times, but I kept putting it off for some reason.”
“You were ready to give the woman a ring, but not a drawer.”
“Telling, isn’t it?” he asks, his voice wry.
I take a sip of my drink. “Question. If Selah already has money and position, why is she working as your stepmother’s PA?”
“Answer. Because she has her own daddy issues. Her old man believes her life goal is to marry well and produce heirs. He won’t let her get a foot in with the family company.”
“Jesus.”
“And since he has a lot of friends, the chances of her finding a job in this town are…not good. Rachel is about the only person who’d stand up to him. But she’s making Selah work her way up. Kind of amazed she kept her on after the shit with me went down.”
“Do you resent that?”
“Are you my therapist now?” he asks with a smile.
“No. Just curious.”
“We all make mistakes. And just because Rachel’s giving her a second chance doesn’t mean I will be.”
“Okay. So that’s why you went wandering?”
“It’s part of it.” He sits back with his beer, the flames from the fire casting shadows across his face. Making the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the cut of his jaw even more prominent. “Thing is, if everything hadn’t gone to hell, I wouldn’t have found you. A woman who almost has a panic attack when I spend money on her. A woman who now owns almost every drawer in the apartment.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”
“I wouldn’t have walked away from all of this and gotten some perspective.”
“Is that what cleaning tables did for you?” I ask.
“What I discovered is, that it’s not until you get completely away from your family and all of your support systems and have to stand on your own two feet that you find out who you really are. Living without the money and Elliot name, I’d never had that before,” he says, voice thoughtful. “Of course, I could have made a phone call and gotten it all back. Dad would have sent the private jet to fetch me. With a bit of groveling, I’m sure all would have been forgiven.”
I nod, nursing my drink. “But you didn’t.”
“I survived the trials and tribulations of minimum wage.” His tone is heavy on the self-mockery. “Like millions of my fellow citizens.”
“And now you’re back.”
“Yes, I am.”
“With a girl who’s the exact opposite of your ex.”
He raises a brow in question.
“Physical, financial, social status…they’re all very different.”
“Okay,” he says, straightening up and leaning forward. “Time for me to play therapist here for a minute. Let me make this very clear. You are not some juvenile rebellion on my part. I am not trying to lash out at my dead daddy or any other assorted members of my family by being with someone from beyond their circle. I set out to learn about the world outside of the Elliot bubble and wound up finding someone who likes me for me and not my money. Someone who is funny and hot, and who I very much like spending time with. You. Are you hearing me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He sighs. “Furthermore, I am not Paul. I’m neither using you nor embarrassed by you. Nor am I sexually incompetent.”
“But I only have your word for that now, don’t I?”
He tips his chin. “Be precise. Which part of my diatribe are you casting doubt on exactly?”
“The claims of expertise when it comes to fucking.”
“Alice, Alice, Alice.” He clicks his tongue. “If you think I’m putting out now just to prove a point or to meet your dare, you are very much mistaken.”
“We need to discuss this whole waiting thing,” I mumble. “Please give me a full and thorough explanation for why this is necessary again. Especially since we’re now officially sharing a bed and living space.”
“I just think it’s best we wait.” And he says it so casually. Like it’s already decided and that’s that.
“Why?”
“Lots of reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Actually, there’s just the one. The solidity of our relationship,” he announces. “Now, this is all very cutting-edge science, I assure you. Try your best to keep up. You see, I’m basing my hypothesis on my own past experiments in this particular field.”
“I’m listening.”
“This may shock you, but in every relationship I’ve had up until now sex tends to enter the equation quite early on. And each and every one of those relationships failed.” He holds out a hand like he’s presenting something. Like he’s a magician as opposed to a sexy moron. “In summation, it is my belief that fucking too soon quite possibly fucks things up long-term.”
I wrinkle my nose. “No.”
“Yes.”
Give me strength. “Or maybe you just weren’t compatible with these other people.”