Page 19 of A Loser by Christmas
“Meet anyone I wanted in my life enough to get that ball rolling?” He shakes his head. “Nope. I wasn’t avoiding it. Just didn’t meet the right person. Plus, I wasn’t in a hurry to do something that would only shine a spotlight on Reece and Pat. They don’t have my either-or options. Not saying I have any choice about who gets my motor running.” He side-eyes me, and I glimpse a hint of warmth. It gutters just as quickly. “But the last brush either of them had with the rougher side of media attention...”
Ah.
“It was because of me.”
“Which makes you perfect.” He snorts and uses a word the internet gave him as a label. “What you did to Jack was ruthless.”
I’ve seen plenty of real ruthlessness with Reece on French beaches. Calum ascribing the same cruelty to me shouldn’t be a gut punch. He watches me wince, but he doesn’t backtrack. “That’s what I need, Valentin. Someone who doesn’t give a shit about hurting people. Someone who doesn’t care about me or about my reputation. That’s why your name wasn’t right at the top of my list. It was the only one on it.”
He reaches over the edge of the bunk and comes back with his phone, which casts more light onto his face. I see determination before I realise what the screen shows me.
Speedboat after speedboat fills it, all for sale on Dad’s website.
“It’s almost midnight. You want to hit your sales target?”
I nod.
I do.Somuch.
“Why?”
“Because the momentlaSylvieis shipshape, I’m out of here.”
His brow creases. “You don’t want to be part of your family business?”
“Non.”
Those creases deepen. “You don’t want to help your father?”
“I . . .” Saying no feels too simple for what is all too complex. I blame my internal conflict on the fact that Christmas is coming. It’s always a reminder of counting down the days until Père Noël would pay his annual visit when I was so much younger. “He’s always been business focussed. He doesn’t need my help with his.”
Calum isn’t so certain. “Listen, while I was waiting for you to get back here, I heard someone say the luxury maritime market is really struggling.”
That’s what Dad also admitted about the baby he always put first. It sounds like Calum is having second thoughts about spending six figures. I tell my heart to quit sinking, and I focus on skimming a finger along the flaking varnish of my own baby. “She needs repairs, but if I don’t hit my sales target to score them for her, I do have one other option.”
“Which is?”
He’s the one covered in bruises. I don’t know why sharing this feels so tender. Maybe because Lito laughed about a confession I now make to an actual cup winner. “I’ll win a contest. For filmmakers.”
Unlike Lito, he’s interested. “Yeah?”
“Oui. I’m almost finished. The cash prize means I could get back to doing what gets to me right here.” I touch the centre of my chest. “I never wanted to stop. My boat almost sinking wasn’t my decision, but if no one else will come up with the cash to fix her”—I meet the eyes of someone who I bet regrets offering to buy a boat by midnight, and who I now let off that hook—“I’ll do it myself by winning that contest.”
His frown softens a fraction. “I want the same. To fix my own problem and get back to doing what I love. Crazy how my club will meet my terms for that in one way.” About him being bi, I guess. Calum touching my jaw with a gentle finger seemsto confirm it until his tone sharpens. “But they won’t budge one little bit for something else that matters to me.” He’s bleak. So is his question. “Think you can make me look bad enough in the next three weeks to cost me my contract?”
Sex always makes me stupid. And too honest. “Probably not.” I shrug. “Maybe, if you agree to do anything I suggest. How likely is that?”
“Me doing whatever you tell me? Not at all.”
Of course it isn’t. “How about you letting me record you twenty-four seven? Because viral moments happen when you least expect them. Are you on board with me following you constantly with my camera running?”
“Spend even more time with you?” He crosses his eyes like Jack did in the alley, but he also tucks me tight into his side. “Can’t imagine anything worse.”
I struggle free, but I can’t help laughing. “Maybe it’s just as well. I don’t even have time to finish my contest entry while working for Dad. There’s no way I could carve out extra time to make you look a bigger dick than you are already.”
He huffs. “You like my big dick.”
“I do.” Stupid, see? It’s my only excuse for adding, “Save your money.” I roll close to kiss him. Or I would roll close if he hadn’t already rolled in the other direction to sit on the edge of my bunk. “You have to go?”
