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“I’m sorry,” I reply, fighting back the temptation to grab her hand again because I know she would hate that. “I didn’t mean you. You know I—”
“What do I know?” She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m just some meaningless fuck. Yet another thing you can buy with all the limitless money you earned all on your own.”
“Four,” I correct.
Julia’s frown somehow deepens. She blinks past her confusion before she shakes her head. “Four what? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re not just some meaningless fuck. You were four meaningless fucks.”
It’s such a risky thing to say, but it pays off in spades when she bursts out laughing. “I hate you,” she murmurs, still chuckling.
“Although,” I go on, leaning closer to her, “I’m not sure what to call the last time we were together. We didn’t even speak to each other. We hardly looked at each other. You just crawled into my bed and let me in your pussy.”
The heat of the comment strikes her. I can see the flush steadily rise on her cheeks even though she’s trying so hard to be angry with me.
“And so we’re clear,” I go on, “sleeping with you did mean a lot to me. I would have told you if you hadn’t disappeared from my bed in the night without a word.”
“I left because you don’t do love, Gus,” she answers simply.
The admission makes the entire world freeze. I stop hearing the shitty cumbia remix and the flashing lights fade out. I blink a few times, wondering if I heard her correctly. Did she…did she just outright tell me why she left? I spent an entire month wondering what the hell I did to make her leave, even after all those hints she dropped about wanting to stay. And now she just said it?
“Did you hear me?”
“I heard you,” I confirm, daring another glance at her. “I’m…processing.”
“Take your time, but know that I’m done being coy. We’re both adults and we’re both smart, so let’s speak plainly: I left Montana even though I wanted to stay because I didn’t want to fall for you. And I think I could, August, because no man has ever fucked me the way you do. Not even close.”
I’m stunned into silence, possibly for the first time in my life. She hasn’t said much, but there’s so much to unpack. I’m not sure where to begin, and I end up furrowing my brow and saying, “You wanted to stay?”
When she nods, relief hits me from every direction. In my month of agony, I wondered how our time together could mean so little to her when it was so inexplicably gratifying to me.
“I know you think I’m an insatiable, party girl, but I’m not that person anymore,” Julia explains, her eyes fixed on mine, willing me to understand. “I want more. I deserve more.”
“You do,” I agree. “You deserve whatever you want, Julia.”
“Well, I want what I described that last night at the cabin. A man who can satisfy me in every filthy, unthinkable way I desire, but can also connect with me. Talk to me. Love me.” She glances to her side at the buzzing dancefloor packed with people, momentarily lost in thought. “I’m still trying to find him. You fuck me exactly the way I like, August. But it’s not enough without a connection.”
I’m surprised her comment stings me as much as it does. “You don’t think we have a connection?”
“We could, I think, but you’re a mystery,” she replies, using words I’ve heard countless times before from awestruck employees, analysts, fans—whatever. Gus Winter—reclusive, mysterious billionaire. I loved that shit. But hearing Julia call it a dealbreaker practically makes me sick to my stomach.
“It’s hard for me,” I admit. Even that small, almost negligible admission makes me uneasy.
“Loving someone or opening up about why you can’t? I’m not asking you to love me, but I am asking you to open up to me.” She raises a shoulder. “If you don’t want to, you and I have no future together and we should call it now before someone gets hurt.”
She means it. She wants it all. She wants to know more about my childhood and my parents and how Constance left me after I gave up everything for her. My chest tightens at the prospect, like the crowd around us is closing in.
But then I look at her, at this incredible woman, and the thought of never seeing her again aches even worse than a tight chest.
“Can I try?” I find myself asking.
Her expression brightens and I shouldn’t be so damn satisfied when I see a smile on her face. “You mean it?”
I nod. “I have to try for your sake. If I don’t, it sounds like you’re never getting fucked well ever again. We certainly can’t have that.”
She lowers her jaw in surprise and bats my shoulder. “I’m serious though. If you’re just agreeing as a ploy to get me to sleep with you—”
“Let’s be real. Even if I’m lying, you’ll fuck me anyway.”
