Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(13)

He takes a step forward. “Fuck no. But you had every right to do whatever you wanted after I left.”

“Which includes hooking up with someone only a month later? Are you serious right now?”

His eyes widen. “I told you to move on.”

“The more you say that, the more I wonder if maybe that’s what you wanted.”

He takes a big step back. “What? No. I mean—” He releases a frustrated exhale. “It wasn’t like that for me.”

“Then what was it like?” My heart pounds against my chest.

His brows scrunch with confusion. “What was what like?”

My voice drops, barely stronger than a whisper. “Moving on from me.” The regret hits me instantly, making me wish I never opened my mouth and asked my question in the first place.

He avoids looking at me as he focuses on something over my shoulder. “I can’t answer that.”

My heart stutters in my chest. “Why not?”

He did move on, right?

Of course he did. He was the one who broke up with you, not the other way around. While you waited around for him to come back, he was hooking up with every person in all of Chicago.

“You know what? Forget I asked.” The thought of him being with someone else makes me sick to my stomach, and I’m suddenly desperate to get away from this conversation. “I’ve been gone for longer than five minutes, so I should head back.”

He grasps on to my elbow while his pained eyes flicker over my face. “You always deserved better than me.”

I rip my arm free of his hold. “No. I deserved better from you.”





6





CAL





Lana stuns me into silence. She doesn’t stick around for a reply that probably won’t come. Whatever relief I gained from finding out neither Lana nor myself are Cami’s parents seems short-lived, easily replaced by the ache in my chest as I watch her walk away from me yet again.

I deserved better from you.

Of course she did. She deserved the whole damn world, but I was—am—too sick to give her anything but heartache.

And whose fault is that?

I’m not sure how long I stand there mulling over the conversation I had with Lana, but I don’t move until my skin prickles from the rising sun. I take a step toward my car and nearly trip over a small person standing in front of me.

“Hi!” Cami smiles up at me and waves.

My heart rate picks up. “Hi?”

“You’re the mister from last night.” The tan skin around her blue eyes crinkles as her grin widens. Her dad must have some strong genes because Cami barely resembles Lana’s sister except for the color of her skin and the shape of her lips.

“Yes?”

“I’m Cami.” She holds out her hand for me to shake.

“Cal.” I’m on autopilot as I clutch her small palm. The size difference between us is comical, but her grip is strong as she shakes my arm like a pool noodle.

“Hi, Cow-l.”

“Cal,” I repeat slower this time, emphasizing the ah sound.

“Cam-eee.” She drags out her name while pointing at her chest, instantly making me feel like an idiot for trying to teach her how to properly say my name.

Who cares how she says it? Just get out of here.

“Well, it’s been great talking to you…” I take a step around her.

“Wait.”

Jesus, take the wheel and drive me off the nearest cliff please.

She runs ahead and stops in front of me, blocking my path toward the car. “You owe me a dollar.”

I blink down at her. “For what?”

“The swear jar.” She holds out her hand. “Dinero, por favor.”

“The swear jar? What the hell is that?”

Her big eyes stretch wide. “Uh-oh. Now you owe me two dollars.”

“I see they’re teaching extortion from a young age.”

“What’s extorshee-on?”

I give my head a good shake. “Forget about it.” I sidestep her and put five feet between us before she is chasing after me.

“Hey! What about my money?”

I shut my eyes and count to five. Sweat begins to slide down my neck from my internal temperature spiking. I have absolutely no experience with children besides encountering and avoiding the occasional kid in public. Until Declan and Iris have one of their own, I’m grossly underprepared to deal with any of this.

Just give her the money and go. I check my wallet for singles but come up empty. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t have any dollars.”

“How about that?” She points at the stack of hundred-dollar bills with big eyes.

“Do you even know how much these are worth?”

Her blank stare doesn’t give me much to go off.

“Fine. Whatever. Here you go.” I give her one of the bills.

“But you said two bad words.”

“These are worth more than a dollar.” I tap the numbers to emphasize. “That’s a hundred. See?”

Are you really trying to reason with a kid?

Her brows scrunch together as she stares at the bill. “Hold on. Let me count to make sure… One…two…three…” She traces each number in the air like she is writing on an invisible sheet of paper.