Page 84 of Filthy Player

“But you didn’t offer! You strong-armed me into accepting it without giving me a choice. How could you do this?”

“Because I care? Because I can.”

“God. Stop!” Screw his millions and his ability to buy trucks with cash and throw equal amounts of money at my feet without blinking an eye. “Do you know how crappy that makes me feel when you say that, Beaux? That the only reason my dad is being taken care of is because of you, because you have boatloads of money and I have nothing? Have you once stopped to think how shitty that makes me feel? That you think I’m so incapable of doing something for the only family I have that you have to swoop in and save me? Save him?”

“Paige—” His voice softened and he stepped forward.

I threw up my hands. “Fuck you for pitying me, Beaux. I don’t need this shit. You—”

“I’m not your damn mom, Paige. Shut up and listen to me, would you?”

I jerked back like he’d backhanded me. “What? My mom?”

“Yes.” He shoved a finger at me. “You said after she left, you hated that she sent you expensive things and money. You said she couldn’t buy your love. That’s not what I’m doing.”

God. My head spun. He’d remembered that? Was that why I was so mad at him for this? I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t think. “I’m not pissed about my mom. I’m pissed you did this without asking me first.”

“Bullshit. To you, it’s all the same. I love that you don’t care about my money, but I also have it and when I can, I’m going to spend it. Not to buy your love, but so I can help people I care about. It’s different.”

It was and it wasn’t. And I was so thrown from all of it, how well he knew me, maybe better than I knew myself, I didn’t have a comeback. Maybe he was right that I was thinking about my mom, throwing money at me once she got a new life, but it wasn’t everything.

I wanted to be the one to take care of my dad, and not being able to made me feel so damn worthless some days I couldn’t think straight. Dad was all I had, and I couldn’t even take care of him the way he needed without needing someone else’s wallet.

“I need to think.” I turned and ran for the stairs. I needed a minute to process everything I was feeling and thinking without Beaux’s inspection.

With my hands still trembling, I ripped off his shirt I’d tossed on earlier and grabbed my dress, flinging it over my head.

I was trying to knot the belt at my waist when Beaux’s footsteps headed my way from down the hall. They were unhurried, but even from the thudded echo, I could tell he was determined.

And probably pissed, but too bad, so was I.

“I don’t pity you,” he said.

I snatched my panties up off the floor and turned toward his bathroom. “I don’t want to talk right now.”

He huffed and followed me.

I had just tugged on my underwear when I caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror, one shoulder resting against the doorframe. I did my best to ignore him, but after we’d gotten dressed earlier, he’d thrown on a pair of gray sweatpants and forgone a shirt.

All I saw were muscled biceps and the planes of his firm stomach. That sweet, sweet V-muscle that popped above his hipbones and the thick trail of his blonde hair above his waistband.

The man was dangerously sexy, and even upset, I wasn’t immune.

“I care about you, Paige. I get you’re pissed I paid your dad’s bills without talking to you about it, but there’s nothing wrong with taking someone’s help, and I’ve got it to give.”

“You should have asked.”

“Would you have allowed it?”

“That’s not the point.” I slapped the counter and spun, putting my backside to the countertop and glaring at him. “It’s my family. My responsibility. I get to decide how things are handled, not steamrolled just because you can. That’s not fair. I don’t need your glamour or your glitter. In some ways, this is no different than my mom.”

“You’re right.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re right, it’s not fair. You know what else isn’t fair? You’re gearing up right now to run, cataloguing in your sweet little mind all the things that’s wrong with us, why you don’t need me, and downstairs, we were just doing the fucking dishes and all I was thinking of was how fucking perfect you looked in my house and how much I want you here.”

Wave after wave of shock slapped at me, like brutal oceans crashing into shore with every word he spoke, with the volume of emotion behind them. I stared at him, completely breathless.

---