“Am I interrupting?”
Kellan pats my hand before removing it entirely. “Not at all, Coach. I was just leaving.”
“No, you weren’t,” I squeak, suddenly desperate to have him stay, if only to give me more time to avoid what’s coming. “Our conversation wasn’t finished.”
There’s a gentleness to his expression now as he lowers his voice, letting it fall to a murmur. “Don’t let a secret ruin your happiness, Elle. You’ll only regret it.”
With those parting words, he pushes himself off the stone pad wrapping around the pool and ruffles my hair before leaving. I can’t get myself to turn around to watch him. Instead, I keep my focus on the city lights.
“If you wanted to come tonight, I’d have joined you instead of driving separately,” Roman grouses behind me.
“I didn’t invite you for a reason.”
“Is that the same one behind your lack of responses, as well?”
I shift my hands to the cool edge of the pool on either side of my thighs. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Does it matter?”
His footsteps are near silent in the thick grass. His shoes settle beside my thighs, and I grit my jaw, refusing to give in and look up at him.
“Yes, it matters. Look at me, Brielle. Tell me what I did so I can fix it. That’s why I’m here. For you. Not all of this.”
A wave of emotion crashes over me, pulling me too deep beneath its surface. “I debated telling you so many times. But I thought that if I did, you’d look at me differently. That if I was honest with you about absolutely everything, you’d see the entire picture and decide it wasn’t as beautiful as you’d thought.”
“What are you talking about?” He drops to a crouch, and I turn my head away from him, lip wobbling. “Look at me, baby. Where is this coming from?”
I fight against the knuckle grazing my chin, attempting to turn my face. “How long have you known who I am?”
His lack of reply confirms everything I’ve spent hours stewing over, struggling to digest.
“Is that why you agreed to sleep with me? Because you already knew what I liked? Was it a power thing?” I attack, scrambling to my feet. The space between us allows me to take a breath, albeit raggedly. “You paid me! You’d paid me, Roman. I may as well be your sugar baby!”
“Brielle,” he snaps, voice hard, demanding in the way that curls my toes whether I want them to or not. “You know that’s all bullshit. Don’t tell me you’re still unaware of how I feel about you.”
“If you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t have kept that a secret. I feeldirty.”
“I didn’t want you to start thinking these things. If I’d told you, you would have immediately assumed that I only pursued you because of what had happened online, and that’s so fucking far from the truth. I realized who you were and tried to ignore you! To keep myself at a distance. You wouldn’t let me.”
Anger pulses through me, encouraging me to speak without thinking. Its song swirls in my ears, drawing me into the flames.
“So it’s my fault? I pursued you, right? I’m the one who couldn’t take the hint and just had to keep pushing.”
His face crumples, pain glowing in his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t regret anything that happened with you. Not a damn thing.”
“I feel dirty,” I repeat, my vision blurring with tears.
“You’re not. You’re—fuck, Brielle. I don’t care what happened before. It doesn’t matter to me. Not when I have you now. Who you are on that site and what you do there doesn’t matter to me. I haven’t thought about that video in weeks. The moment I realized who you were, I deleted my account and never checked it again. It wasn’t right to watch you like that afterward. As far as I’m concerned, the Brielle in front of me is the only one who matters.”
“You don’t care that I still record myself like that? That other men have seen what I look like beneath my clothes or have heard the sounds I make when I come? That I’ve sent them videos similar to the one I sent you? Taken their money?”
The words are venomous. And they’re lies. Cruel words spewing from my lips in an attempt to distract myself from the disgust spreading through my veins like poison. The regret and shame.
I haven’t taken a video like that since the one I sent to him. There have been no uploads at all for weeks. Not since our first night together. Not even when I tried to record something only minutes before he showed up at my place with groceries and plans for a cooking lesson.
I sat down in my chair and froze. My stomach churned, and I sank to my knees in front of the toilet because for a few moments, I thought I’d throw up solely from the idea of having someone else see what I only wanted Roman to.
