Cartoon hearts flutter from my eyes and circle my head. “You mean it?”
“I really do.” Her smile is soft, and I have the overwhelming urge to expose as much of that softness as I can. All day she’s let her guard down and it looks good on her—better than the evening gown I bought her for my brother’s wedding. Better than the sparkly jumpsuit.She takes my hand in hers. “It’s been a long time since someone made me feel that special, and I didn’t think I’d ever feel that again. I didn’t want to.”
“I know you probably only told me the tip of the iceberg about your ex and how he treated you, and I hope some day you can tell me more, but I would never do that to you. I–I don’t know how you’ll ever believe me, but, if you’ll allow it, every chance I get I'm gonna keep showing up and proving it to you.”
She studies me for a long time. Probably longer than I ever studied for her class. “I do believe you’re a wholly different man than my ex-husband. Outside of the rugby field, I don’t think you have an aggressive bone in your body.”
“I don’t! I accidentally bumped my knee into King a little bit ago and I about died of guilt.”
She nods and continues. “But that doesn’t guarantee I will always think you’re safe. Trauma’s a bitch like that. I only say this because if we do this,” she says, squeezing my hand a little tighter, “your sunshine and four-leaf clovers are not always gonna work on me. For a very long time, my bodywas trained to distrust. I want you to think about what that might look like down the line.”
Renée is right—I do need to think about what it would mean to be with someone who might need more emotional support than most. The road that led me here has been long and eye-opening, and I’ve learned so much about her and myself. Like how crazy-good it can feel to be steady and reliable. I never fully understood the weight of everyone’s disappointment in me until I started to change. Now the thought of slipping back into who I was before three freckle-faced ladies moved in next door makes unease tumble in my gut like a shoe in a dryer.
“I will think about that,” I say. I gesture between us and rub my thumb over the back of her hand. “But if we can always speak like this, then I bet we can work through anything.” She hums a contented sigh. “What else do you need to be certain of?”
“There...issomething I’ve never been able to figure out about you and it’s been eating me alive. I didn’t want to ask at first because well, it’s not something you should ask people you barely know.”
Oh gosh, she’s gonna ask me. I’ve been preparing for this and it’s finally time!
She hesitates. “I need to know... Where does your money come from? There’s no way in hell you made that from lap dances.”
I bring a hand to my chest. “Rude. My lap dances are top-tier.”
Renée rolls her eyes. “I know they are, but no one makesthatkind of money”—she gestures to my house—“working at a strip club slash hair salon.”
“I’m curious,” I start, and the corner of my mouth curls. “If you had to guess, where do you think my money comes from?”
“So help me Jonah, if you’re some social mediainfluencer—”
I chuckle, “No, but my brother’s husband and wife are.”
“At one point I thought maybe it was family money,” she says. “But the more time I spend with you, well... you don’t exactly carry yourself like someone raised with a lot of money.”
Fair.
She tilts her head like she’s weighing options. “Pretty privilege, yes. Money, no.”
“Alright,” I grumble, but my tone is teasing. “Point taken. You’re right, I don’t come from money and I didn’t earn all my money from stripping.” I swallow, suddenly nervous. I want to tell her and have for a long time now. But the constant reminders from my family and lawyers to not tell anyone nips at me.
No, I trust her. She deserves to know.
“I won the Pennsylvania lottery earlier this year.”
The hand holding mine goes limp and her shapely brows drop. “Be serious, Jonah.”
“I am.”
She rips her hand away and tucks both under her arms. “Y’know, I really didn’t peg you for a liar.”
Suddenly there’s a swarm of invisible bees trapped beneath my skin. “I’m not! I really did win the lottery!” My hands fumble with my phone as I pull it out of my coat pocket. “I won $540 million dollars. Well, after taxes it was more like $397 million. I had to create an LLC to claim the winnings anonymously and hire a financial advisor and attorney who claimed the money on behalf of the LLC.”
She still doesn’t look like she believes me. “What’s the name of the LLC?”
“LLAN Trust.” I tap Raf’s contact in my phone.
Her face screws up. “What does LLAN stand for?”
I smile. “Long Live Agony Nectar.”
