Jeremy smiled at me. “I never thought you would,” he assured me. “My point is that Connery apparently thought that and when he found out it wasn’t correct, that was what caused the change in his perspective. I guess when he thought it was booze related, he could forgive himself by just deciding not to drink anymore, but when he found out that it was just his own sex drive, he started to view himself as the whore that the clan always painted loose women as.”
My jaw dropped but I could tell by the pained expression on Jeremy’s face that he wasn’t done. “There’s more?”
“Yeah. He thinks you’ve only been taking care of him because you have no choice.” Jeremy winced. “Ah, both financially and, ah, physically. Um, sexually.”
“Wait, what?” I couldn’t even wrap my brain around that. “Why the hell would he think that?”
Jeremy’s face was nearly fire engine red, but he soldiered on, determined to be the consummate professional. “You, ah, apparently respond when he makes the first move -which, incidentally, he thinks you’re being required to- but with one exception haven’t initiated intimacy in the time he’s been with you.”
I wanted to argue but couldn’t because I knew damned well I hadn’t. Not for the reasons Ari apparently thought, not because I didn’t want him, but because I hadn’t felt it was fair to use him for my own pleasure in his condition and situation.
“Fuck.”
“Not quite the response we were expecting,” Kade commented dryly.
“Look, I’m not going to go into detail about our sex life without Ari’s permission,” I huffed, pinching the bridge of my nose, “but I will say that it was me trying to respect his situation, not because I wasn’t interested.”
“Actually,” Jeremy said quietly, “he skipped not interested completely and went directly to believing you were disgusted by his desires.”
Double fuck.
“Is there anything else?” I asked with a sigh.
“Only that he asked me for information on pheromone sprays to assist with his neglect issues so that he doesn’t have to keep imposing his needs on you.”
I stood abruptly. “I’ve got to go. My mate and I have some things we need to discuss.”
Kade cocked a brow and I glared at him before turning back to Jeremy. “I’ll be in touch after Ari and I have a chance to talk.”
I flipped Kade off as I walked out the door, ignoring the peal of laughter that followed me down the hall.
Chapter Eighteen
Ari
The interview went well. Really, really well, actually. So well that they offered me the position on the spot and I found myself standing in a cute little cabin that was sparsely furnished but all mine about an hour later.
It was Friday, so the rentals were prepared and the weekend guests had already been checked in, so my new employer assured me that, other than any potential emergencies, all I had to do was get myself settled and report to the leasing company to introduce myself on Monday morning.
Of course, I knew there actually were a few more items on my to-do list, namely telling Roger that I would be out of his space and then visiting the shopping district to add some work-appropriate clothing to my wardrobe, preferably some with a little give as my stomach was already starting to expand. And I still needed to check back with Jeremy about the medicine that the nurse had mentioned to keep my neglect symptoms under control. Goodness knew I couldn’t very well go panting after people like the bitch in heat that I apparently was.
Heading back to Roger’s home first to pack up my meager belongings, I stopped short when I walked through the door and found him hunched over on the couch, looking the very image of despair.
“Roger? What’s wrong?” I asked, hurrying to his side. “Are you sick?”
His head popped up and we nearly collided. “Ari? Where were you? I was worried when I got home and you weren’t here.”
I felt my forehead scrunch. “I’m sorry. I left a note. I didn’t mean to worry you,” I said slowly, looking over to the kitchen counter where I’d left the paper.
“I found it,” Roger said, following my gaze, “but then I talked to Jeremy and he said you were leaving me, so I wasn’t sure you were really coming back.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“I wouldn’t just leave without telling you,” I finally said. “I know I have to tell you where your baby is.”
“Mybaby,” Roger repeated, putting a strange emphasis on the possessive adjective, “isn’t the only one I’m concerned about. I was worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” I said quietly. “I really am sorry that I worried you. I didn’t mean to.”
