I fall back down onto the sofa without bothering to button my trousers back up. Fuck. I could have handled that better. I might as well have called him a whore. My words were awfully insulting and I just know that look on his face is going to haunt me forever.
But some of it gives me hope. Would he have been so furious if he didn’t like me at all, and was just acting out of gratitude? It’s a valid point. Perhaps he truly just wants me, and I am being an ass? That thought doesn’t feel very good. It would mean that I’ve just destroyed everything. I groan in dismay.
The options had been shitty. Talk about a rock and a hard place. If I had accepted the blow job, but it later turned out to be misguided obligation, that would have been awful. It would have put me in the same camp as every man who had ever used him.
Yet, telling him I thought he didn’t know his own mind and was acting like a whore, was outrageously derogatory. I groan again and throw my head back on the sofa as I cover my face with my hands. What a fucking day.
Chapter twenty-three
Mackenzie
IhearKit’sfootstepsapproaching my door, and my entire body tenses. I don’t want to talk to him right now. I haven’t talked to him or even set eyes upon him since last night and his humiliating rejection of me, and I’m still not ready.
He pauses just outside, but doesn’t knock. An envelope slides under the door and he walks away. Damn him for making me curious and intrigued. Walking as silently as I can, I retrieve the envelope. I hope he didn’t hear me. I don’t want him to know I jumped up and grabbed it straight away.
Inside the envelope are two tickets to see Cats the musical tonight. It is my favorite show. I wonder how he knows. There is also a handwritten note. It only says ‘Sorry I’m such an ass’, but it makes me smile.
Part of me wants to forgive him. Most of me hates that he sees me like some maiden in distress that he needs to rescue. Though in that analogy, my mother as the dragon sounds about right. Kit as the knight in shining armor definitely fits. Which does leave me the role of the princess.
Sighing, I throw myself back onto the bed. How did everything become so complicated? How did Kit Rivers get so completely and utterly under my skin? Sliding effortlessly through all my walls with nothing more than a charming smile.
And now my life has turned upside down and inside out. The future feels overwhelming. I grit my teeth against the rising panic and wonder if it is too late to go back to Mother, or if that bridge is well and truly burned. It’s a tempting thought. Back with her, lies familiarity. Better the devil you know, and all that.
Whereas, on the other hand, freedom from her means what? I have no idea. I can’t picture it, and that blankness is daunting. It involves Kit’s pity, that is for sure. But what is worse, his benevolent kindness or her furious cruelty?
Shamefully, I’m drawn to Kit’s softness. It’s more alluring than a siren’s song. But I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what dark things he has imagined for him to conclude I’m that fragile. But my life really hasn’t been tragic. Playing the victim to his hero would make me a fraud.
So what if Mother uses my body to play the game of fame and fortune? It’s no less than what I deserve. I ejaculated the first time I was penetrated. That makes me a slut for cock, just as she always says. I like it. I like men. And the rewards have been pretty damn good, offering my body certainly works, because I’m very rich and very famous. So there really is nothing to complain about. Also, if she doesn’t line men up for me, I go and seek it out for myself anyway.
Like throwing myself at Kit. I swallow and close my eyes as a fresh wave of pain washes over me. I’m such a fucking mess. It had been a stupid thing to do. In every way. Nevermind my embarrassment, he deserves someone far better than me. If I truly loved him, I’d walk away and leave him to find someone worthy of him. But I’m too weak for that. He is a force of gravity and I’m caught in his orbit. The truth of that settles over me and it feels peaceful to accept it.
I’m going to go to the theater with him. I’m going to stay here with him. And if he only wants me as his rescued princess, I’ll be that too. Anything to be close to him.
As I fully make my peace with that, an entirely new panic sets in. What on earth am I going to wear tonight?
Sitting in the back of the car heading for the theater with Kit, feels ridiculously exciting. He looks amazing in his form fitting black suit. His body really is incredible.
I try not to fiddle with my hair. I’ve left it down because I think Kit prefers it that way. Not that I’ve been paying close attention to his reactions every time he sees me or anything. I grit my teeth at the absurdness of my denial.
I need serious help. This isn’t even a date. He doesn’t even see me like that. I’m just his little charity case. A fact I decided to accept because it was better to be that to him, than to be nothing. I’ve made my decision, I need to stop moping about it.
Anxiously, I rub my hands on my pants. They are cut like skinny jeans, but the fabric is light blue and silky. My top is a tight fitting black roll neck. I really hope it doesn’t look like I’m dressed for a date. Kit can’t think I’ve got the wrong idea. That would be mortifying.
The personal shopper assured me it was a great outfit for going to the theater. Thinking of my earlier shopping spree makes me squirm. Kit looked so shocked. It was a blatant reminder that we are from vastly different worlds.
I’ve often heard people moan that now they are famous, they can’t just casually go shopping in stores anymore. Perhaps I don’t know what I’m missing, because I’ve been famous my whole life so I’ve never done it, but it doesn’t sound like much of a loss. Calling a personal shopper to come to your home, with their chosen selection for you, is far more efficient.
Though, Kit’s face when the van pulled up in his driveway, made me feel super self-conscious about it. Now I’m paranoid about what else I do that’s not normal. I don’t want him thinking I’m spoiled or out of touch.
The car pulls up outside the theater, and my stomach flips over. There is a huge throng of press. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the seat. Five deep breaths to brace myself.
“Are you okay?” asks Kit.
“Yeah, fine,” I mutter.
He stares at me with concern filling his gorgeous eyes. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
“The theater probably did, as soon as you booked.” I offer with a weak smile.
