He can buy anything he wants.
He can have anything he wants. Anyone.
So, why me?
It clicks into place then, like the tumblers in a lock stopping the key from turning, and my smile fades.
“Sophie?” Ashton asks, a new worry in his blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Why are you so nice to me?” I repeat, studying his face in case I can read the truth in his expression. Because the truth is there, and I don’t think Ashton will be able to tell me.
“Because… I’m nice,” he offers, trying to sound like he’s joking.
“But you’re not,” I decide. “I mean, you are, but only when you let someone get to know you. Why me?”
“Sophie…”
It’s the way he says my name, and Iknow.
“You think I’m going to charge you,” I say slowly. “The accident. You think…”
I don’t need to finish the thought. And Ashton doesn’t have to say anything. Guilt is written all over his face, a new expression that I’m not used to seeing.
“You think I’m going to charge you,” I repeat. “And that you’re going to lose your license, and your race cars. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you stayed. That’s why you’re spending so much time with me.”
“Sophie…”
“That’s the only reason. You don’t like me. You’re not interested in me. Oh, my god.” I cover my face with my hands, not caring that there is an audience, and this will spread through Battle Harbour quicker than if Ashton and I were caught kissing.
All the things I told him. All the things I said.
Ikissedhim.
I kissed him because I thought… maybe…
How stupid could I be?
But there’s no sense getting upset about it. I knew all along that was too good to be true. Ashton Carrington could never be interested. Ashton Carrington and me—that’s not possible.
If I couldn’t get Martin to like me, how could I ever think that was possible with Ashton?
Something closes inside me. A door that has been creeping open for the last few weeks, that Ashton has pushed open. I hear it lock, the tumblers clicking with a finality that must have been inevitable.
I stand up straight, and give myself a little shake. The fitting room has emptied, and I can’t tell if those who were out here have left or are hiding in the cubicles.
“I think I’m tired,” I say quietly, turning away from our reflection in the mirror. Of Ashton Carrington, billionaire, standing with Sophie Laz.
Who is completely out of his league.
“I might go back to the castle.” I take a halting step back to the cubicle, to get out of this dress.
This dress, this fashion creation that looks so perfect. The colour and the fit and the style…
This dress, that shows me that I’m not. I’m nowhere near perfect for Ashton.
And I’m an idiot for thinking I ever had a chance.
“Sophie…”
