Page 74 of Boyfriend Material

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“Right.” My teeth chatter.

“Eric brought you here, so I’m sure he likes you.”

Does he? Then why didn’t he come outside with me?

“He does need to talk to his father, though,” she adds. “There’s no denying that. You’re welcome to come inside and wait? I can find a quiet room for you if you want?”

She’s truly trying to be helpful, but walking back inside that pristine house isn’t going to happen.

“I’m fine where I am.”

She sighs, a sad look on her face. “You have pride. I understand. I’ll let Eric know where you are, yes?”

I nod and she disappears back inside the house.

I chew on my lip as I send a text to Eric.

I’m outside and want 2 go home.

No reply but it shows as read.

I stare at the beautiful fountain in the circle drive, my thoughts dark and thorny. Money can ruin people. Parker. Mr. Hansen. Eric?

My heart thumps as I linger at the entrance, expecting the door behind me to open, that he’ll finish with his dad and come out.

I wait.

Five more minutes. Ten.

I wait longer.

Fifteen. Twenty. Thirty.

I shiver as the wind blows. The shawl isn’t going to keep me warm.

I pace around the entrance, then linger out to the driveway and gaze up at the stars.

My fists tighten as I remind myself of Taylor’s words.

I am my own universe. I’m made up of black holes and glittering galaxies.

I’m vast. Limitless. I can’t be contained. I. Am. Beautiful.

So why am I waiting on him like a silly schoolgirl, like the one I was all those years ago?

I push back tears as thoughts flit through my mind.

Is it possible I’m just a novelty to him? Someone to pass the time until he goes to law school?

I hate the doubt that creeps in, I do, because he’s done so much for me, but tonight has eviscerated me.

He was also humiliated, though. He’s probably not going to get into Hawthorne Law.

My lashes flutter. But it’s been over half an hour. Why hasn’t he texted me?

People let me down. He has before.

I am my own universe. I am. I am.

“Can I help you, miss?” A valet says as he approaches. “You’re going to freeze.” He’s young, maybe twenty. His co-workers are behind him, working on someone’s flat tire.

“I’m fine,” I push out. “Hey. Do you think one of you could give me a ride to Sparrow Lake?”

“You lost your ride?”

“I think so.”

“I would take you in my car, but I’m on the clock until the guests are gone. We’re expecting the party to be over by midnight or so.”

It’s only ten and the party is in full swing.

“No problem. I’ll figure it out.” I pull my phone out of my clutch and check for Uber and Lyft. No drivers out.

Merry Christmas.

Forty-five minutes now.

I sigh and shiver some more, then survey my surroundings. I went to school in this town, but I have no idea where this neighborhood even is. I can’t walk home anyway. It’s too far.

Frustration builds, mixing with the anger and mortification. Tears cloud my eyes and I swipe at them.

I shake my head as it dawns on me, as I recognize the feeling that’s been building in my chest for weeks. Funny how it takes a momentous event to see your feelings clearly.

I love Eric. Wholeheartedly. Completely. Unconditionally.

I love his spontaneity. The layers of darkness inside him. The way he holds me. The shape of his lips. The warmth of his hand in mine.

But family is the backbone of everything he’s ever known.

He’s eaten up with guilt and shame.

He wears the mantle like a robe.

Hedge fund manager. Billionaire. He’s going to live the life his family wants.

And I have to live mine.

Sniffing, I walk to the valet station and smile as I lie through my teeth. “You know what? I just got a text from Eric. He told me to take his truck back and he’ll catch a ride with someone else.”

Relief hits him. Obviously, he was worried about me. “Great. I’ll pull it around for you.” He grabs a set of keys from the board.

The moment he disappears, the headlights of another car pull up into the circle, a sleek black Mercedes AMG GT. The vehicle stops in front of me, the passenger-side window powering down.

“Need a ride, Ju-Ju?” Parker asks.

I rear back. “I have one.”

He puts the car in park and leans over the window. “Ah, did Eric leave you out here all alone?”

“Fuck off.”

He checks his rearview mirror and calls to the valet, “Hey, if you want a tip, ask for the blow job. She’s shit with everything else.”

My blood boils as rage awakens and begs to be let out to play.

Maybe it’s because I never got vindication after he cuffed me to his bed. Maybe it’s because he came here tonight to ruin Eric and embarrass me. Maybe it’s because I love Eric and I’m terrified of the pain that’s going to come with it.


Tags: Ilsa Madden-Mills Romance