Kit lifts his arms in an open shrug, looking frustrated now. ‘I don’t know. That’s something you’re going to have to figure out for yourself.’
‘Yeah, well, I don’t have the bandwidth to do that right now,’ I say with a mixture of frustration and sadness.
Finally seeming to recognise my torment, he lets out a low breath and relaxes his posture, holding up both hands in acceptance.
‘Okay. Fine. If that’s how you feel then perhaps you should go.’ He leans back against the headboard and tips his face to the ceiling. ‘I guess we had our fun.’ When he looks back at me he’s replaced his scowl with a nonchalant smile. ‘And as a bonus, I got my closure after our split and you got your revenge on What’s-his-chops by having amazing sex with your ex – yours truly – that he hates because I’m better at it than him. I call that a win-win.’
And there we have it – confirmation of what this has all really been about: a salve to Kit’s pride.
I force myself to give him a smile of acknowledgement, then turn away and start walking to the door on legs that feel like they’ve lost all their nerves.
‘Chloe,’ he says loudly behind me.
I stop in my tracks, swallow past a lump in my throat and turn back to face him.
I think that’s the first time he’s called me by my first name, and it’s had a strange effect on me.
He holds out his hand. ‘Give me your phone, I’ll put my number into it. In case you ever feel like shooting the breeze with me again.’
Shooting the breeze. You couldn’t get more casual than that.
But hey, there’s no reason why we can’t be friendly towards each other now.
Without a word I hand my phone to him and watch while his thumbs skim over the screen.
Handing it back, he says, ‘There you go. Now you’ve always got me in your pocket.’
I can’t help but smile at that. ‘You’re a good guy, Kit. Deep down.’
‘Thanks,’ he says, dryly.
‘And you deserve to be happy.’
‘So do you, Dasher.’
I sigh. ‘I will be. I just need a bit of time to heal then I’ll be as good as new.’
He gives me a smile that isn’t entirely convincing. ‘Well. It’s been a blast.’
‘Yeah, it has,’ I agree.
‘See you around, I guess.’
‘Not if I—’ I grimace through a sudden melancholy that’s descended. ‘Yeah, I’m not going to say it.’
The corner of his mouth lifts in a grin. ‘Have a good journey home.’
‘Thanks, you too.’ I turn to go, take a couple of steps towards the door, then spin back to face him again. ‘Do you want to know what I think?’
Folding his arms, he raises both eyebrows in response. ‘Hmm. I’m not sure I do, but I suspect you’re going to tell me anyway.’
‘You’re not the sort of person who should be a billionaire. It’s bad for you. Demotivating.’
‘Wow. Well, I can’t say I’m shocked to hear you say something like that.’
‘Yeah, well. You should thank me for being honest. Clearly no-one else has had the balls to point out the truth to you. It sounds like you’ve surrounded yourself withyespeople.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he jokes, his smile wide and wicked, but I could swear there’s a flash of sadness behind it.
