“I don’t know, Brie.” I roll onto my back again, done with these questions. Done with fucking everything. “The same reason you never let your guard down.”
She swallows and stares at the ceiling. “Do you still love her?”
It takes me several beats to answer, not because I’m uncertain, but because I am. “I don’t know any more.”
“Then why are you so sad?”
“If I knew, do you really think I’d be hiding out in the South of France with a crazy maid, paying an angry French girl to play for me?”
“I don’t know. I do not know you at all.”
“Then ask,” I say, my irritation finally creeping into my tone.
“Ask what?”
“What you’re dying to know.”
I’ve barely got the words out before she says, “Why did you sleep with her?”
“With Ali?” Unease prickles along my spine. I’m so used to having my back up about Red, avoiding questions from the media, from fans. Torn between wanting to protect her and wanting to prove to the world that for a time, even just a small amount, she belonged to me too.
“Oui.”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t care.”
I tilt my head to see her face. “Then why did you ask?’
She sighs and attempts to sit up, but I splay my hand across her chest and push her down. She glares at me and then down at my hand with her brow raised. I consider removing it, but I’m copping a feel and I really don’t want her to leave. She forcibly removes it herself and lets it fall to the floor between us, but she doesn’t attempt to get up, so I decide to make a concession this time.
“I slept with her because I wanted her. She’s hot. Not all refined elegance like you. She’s hot in a commoner kind of way.”
She chuckles. “Commoner?”
“She doesn’t have a stick up her arse.”
“I do not have a stick up my arse.”
“Oh yes, you do.” I laugh, and then my smile fades as I stare up at the ceiling again. “Ali was like a breath of fresh air, until we fucked, and her, Coop, and I fucked. Then she was like breathing carbon monoxide pumped from the exhaust straight into a closed car. She was toxic. The three of us were toxic.”
“Then why did you let it continue?”
“I don’t know. At first I just liked fucking her. I liked fucking with Coop. He was always given anything and everything he wanted, and I liked that I’d been there first with Ali. I knew it ate him up inside, but then the longer that shit when on, the more the joke was on me because I fell in love with who she really was.”
“And she didn’t love you back?’
“Bingo,” I whisper. “I liked to kid myself into believing she did, but I could see it in her eyes. She liked me a whole lot, but she didn’t love me, or she wasn’tinlove with me.”
“I find it hard to believe you would take that lying down.”
“Well, I know I’m charming, but last time I checked, you can’t force someone to fall in love with you any more than you can help who you fall in love with.”
“Oui, exactement.” I chuckle at howFrenchthat was, and how fucking adorable, but Brie pouts. “What?”
“Nothing, Frenchie. So, who’s the fucker that broke your heart?”
“His name is Bastien, and he was my conductor.”