Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(23)

Although I let a majority of my father’s comments bounce off of me, sometimes I struggle. I’m only human after all. My father has always been good with picking at my weaknesses. It isn’t hard for him, especially once I got injured playing hockey and lost the one thing that made me feel special.

He poked and prodded until I spiraled, turning myself into a copy of the person I resent most.

Him.





“I’m going to miss you, little guy.” Iris tucks Merlin against her chest. It only took my cat two years to warm up to her, and now they’re the best of friends. His black fur contrasts against her brown skin, bringing out the deep shades in both.

“He’ll be back in a few months.” I zip up my luggage before placing it upright on the floor.

Her smile drops. “Months? I don’t think I can make it that long without you here.”

“And they call me overly dependent…”

She smacks me in the arm. “Shut up. What if Declan and I come to visit you? I’ve always wanted to see the lake after all your stories, and you’re the one who said the summers were always the best.”

“Uhh…”

“Try to look a little less horrified, will ya?” She pinches the skin between my ribs.

“Let me get settled first and then we can talk about you visiting. Okay?”

“Fine.” She lets Merlin go before dropping on to my couch. “What was it like being back?”

“I’m still processing all of it.”

The gold beads at the ends of her braids clink together as she tilts her head. “That bad?”

“I knew Lana was angry at me…”

“But you ran before you had to deal with it.”

I tip my chin. “Exactly.”

“Well, you have to face your past eventually.”

“It feels like I’m being slapped across the face with it repeatedly.”

She laughs. “Maybe all of this will be good for you. It could help you get some closure.”

I fall on to the leather chair across from her. “Who says I need closure?”

“The fact that you haven’t been in a romantic relationship for six years.”

A rare frown crosses my face. “I haven’t been interested.” The lie slips out easily, perfected after mastering the art of pretending not to give a fuck.

Of course, I am interested, but that doesn’t make it possible. At least not when I’m still a screwed-up mess.

Iris stares at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“Could have fooled me with the way you asked me out on a date.”

I launch a pillow directly at her face. “That was a joke.”

“Says the man who kissed me.”

“And then proceeded to throw up afterward.”

She shivers. “Don’t remind me.”

I’m not sure whose drunken idea it was, but our kiss was a mistake the moment it happened. Our lack of romantic chemistry was a dead giveaway that Iris and I would never be more than friends.

She shakes her head. “Putting me aside, you’ll never be able to move on to someone new if you’re still holding on to the memory of someone else.”

My stomach churns. “I’m not holding on to the memory of someone else.”

“Really? Then give me your wallet.” She holds out her hand.

“No.”

She crosses her arms against her pink T-shirt. “Exactly like I thought.”

My eyes narrow. “Holding on to a photo isn’t a crime.”

“It’s not the photo but what it symbolizes that matters.”

“And what’s that?”

“That a part of you will always love a part of her, no matter how hard you try to deny it.”

“It’s impossible not to love her.”

Iris leans forward. “So you admit that you love her.”

“I never denied it in the first place. Those kinds of feelings don’t just go away, as much as I wish they did.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.” She rubs her temple.

“No need to worry. I know that there is no chance in hell that we are ever getting back together.”

I made sure of that the moment I walked away from her, turning her fear of abandonment into a reality.

And I’ve never forgiven myself.





It’s not until Iris leaves for the night that I pull out my wallet and search for the picture she spoke about. The edges of the small photo are worn from years of wear-and-tear and countless wallet transfers.

It’s been over a decade since the photo was taken, but I remember the day like it was yesterday. Lana’s mom took it of us the summer after I came back from rehab. Both of us are on the dock, drinking cholados Colombianos to celebrate my twenty-first birthday. Lana stares into the camera lens, eyes bright and face beaming, while my focus is solely on her.

It’s obvious I loved her, even back then, although I never acted on my feelings. I was happy to stay friends while we were both figuring out our lives. Lana had just turned eighteen, and I was fresh out of rehab and still struggling with the stressors of my life. And then I got drafted into the National Hockey League when Lana wasn’t even twenty yet. Neither one of us were ready for the sacrifices we needed to make to be together, so instead, we kept things platonic. It nearly killed me inside, but I knew she was worth the wait.