“See?” I say. “You’re laughing over it already. Not long until it’s forgotten entirely.”
“I’m not sure it’s that simple …” His eyes meet mine as he runs his index finger over the back of my hand. “Thank you. Seriously. I don’t think there’s any way I could ever repay you, and while the night was a total fail, thanks to me, you were amazing. Like, I probably wouldn’t have made it to the ceremony at all if you weren’t there.”
“And going was a good thing?”
He frowns for a moment. “Yeah. I think so. I mean, the whole thing was fucked up,butI got to see people I haven’t seen in a long time. I opened that door for if they ever want to reach out to me, and …” he sucks in a sharp breath, “… it’s clear my parents still don’t want to know me. Which hurts, but now I can stop kidding myself that they’ve been trying to find some way to come around.”
My heart hurts for him, and I flip my hand over to take his. “They don’t deserve you.”
“Yeah, I get that. Just would be nice to have parents that did.”
“I hear you.” And while I’m not an expert on pillow talk, I’m confident it’s not supposed to be so melancholy. “Mine aren’t winning any awards either.”
“Fuck, I swear we only talked about me last night. What’s up with yours? Why are they shitty?”
“You really want to do this?” I ask skeptically. Because, while I’m glad he hasn’t kicked me out yet, and that he wants to see me again, I’m clueless if he only means for sex or … more. Would I want more? Could I offer it? Given I’m planning to run out of the country as soon as I can, a relationship isn’t exactly in the cards for me.
But I can’t deny there’s a vulnerability, a goodness to him that I don’t often see.
“My mother is completely blank,” I say. “Emotionless most of the time, and when she does show emotion it’s disapproval or disdain. My father is happy so long as everything goes his way. If it doesn’t, the metaphorical shit will hit the fan. Mostly, I’m something to brag about at parties and heap expectations on.”
His face pinches. “Sorry. That sucks. I’m not sure which is worse. Having parents who want nothing to do with you, or having parents who view you as, like, a trophy or whatever.”
“I’m inclined to say you still win.”
“But …?”
How much can I tell him? He’s still practically a stranger, and while he’s told me a lot about his own life, I’m not used to talking about mine with anyone but my sister.
Fuck it.
“My family wants me to get married.”
His thumb lightly runs along the outside of mine. “Makes sense. Most do, right? How old are you?”
“Twenty-six. And I assume most parents do, but they don’t usually bribe them to do it.”
“What do you mean?”
“My inheritance. To get it, I have to be married, but the man they’ve always tried to push me toward settling down with …” I don’t have the words to finish that sentence without sounding like an entitled twat.
“Don’t like him?”
“It’s not so much that. More … I have no real opinion on him. He’s nice. Handsome. Richer than the monarchy. And I’ve known him since we were little, but there’s no click there. Not even as friends. We’ve never been able to hold down a conversation or see eye-to-eye on most things, so the thought of us being married is laughable.”
“Do you have to marry him? Like, could you go out and marry whoever you wanted?”
“Yes and no. One of the clauses in the will is that I have two family members attend to witness the wedding. Elle would be one, but I’d struggle to find a second if my family didn’t approve of the marriage. Second,ifI somehow found two people, I still need to make it to the wedding. Unless it was someone rich, there’s a good chance my family will try to scare them off long before. While my parents might be bad, my grandmother is terrifying. She’d likely pay whoever I was dating to leave and never come back.”
“There’s no way anyone would accept that.”
I pin him with a look. “Most would. Everyone has their price.”
“Not me.”
“Everyone.” I shrug, not able to meet his eyes. “Maybe not money, but there’s always something people would give up everything for.”
He hums, not sounding convinced, and I get it. Until you see it first hand, it’s hard to conceptualize. Guys like Christian are the easiest targets too. Struggling to make ends meet, big dreams, no family. My grandmother would eat him for breakfast.