Praise (Salacious Players Club #1)(82)
“Now wait a minute,” I interrupt. “I didn’t corrupt her at all. You think she’s not like that? But I promise you, she is. Charlotte is a grown woman and can make her own decisions. I didn’t coerce her at all, but I did give her a place to find herself, and I’ve spent the last few months watching her grow.”
He scoffs.
“Second of all,” I add. “She never chose me over you. You two were already broken up—"
“Oh, shut up,” he barks. “Don’t rub that in my face.”
“I didn’t mean to.” I hold my hands up toward him. “I’m only pointing out that she was fully aware of what she was doing. And before you perpetuate this belief that my club is a dirty, shameful place, I promise you, it’s not. We take all health and safety precautions. Everything is consensual and women have even more power there than men do, so please stop telling yourself how bad I am.”
He’s quiet for a moment, staring at the floor as he wrings his hands and thinks to himself.
“Do you love her?” he asks without looking up at me.
I hesitate. The word yes rests on the tip of my tongue, dying to come flying out, but I’m not sure that’s what he wants to hear. “It doesn’t matter,” I reply, holding back my disappointment. “If you don’t want me to pursue her, I won’t.”
His head snaps up in my direction. He’s reading my expression before forcefully biting out, “I don’t want you to.”
I have to remind myself to breathe. My heart, which was just beating a million beats a minute, has now crashed to the floor. That’s it then. He said no, and I can’t break that. I need him to trust me again.
“Okay.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he adds. “Do you love her?”
This time I let him hear my response. “Yes. Very much.”
His face morphs into part disgust and part pity. With his eyes closed, he shakes his head.
“She’s only twenty-one. You’re forty. That’s fucked up.”
I shrug. “I’m sorry.” There’s no point in telling him how happy we were. How we stopped seeing each other for our ages and more for what we offered each other. Charlotte made me laugh and saw right through my emotional armor I’ve been wearing for twenty years. She always seemed to know exactly what I needed.
“So if I really told you not to see her again…you wouldn’t?”
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees. “You’re my son, Beau. Your happiness comes before my own. If you don’t want me to date your ex, how could I?”
His brow furrows even deeper as he scrutinizes me. “I should go.”
The air deflates from my lungs. “Don’t go, Beau. Don’t be mad at me anymore, please.”
As he stands from his chair, the heavy weight of disappointment burrows itself into my throat, making it hard to swallow.
“I just need time…to figure this out.”
“Come over anytime. We can talk about whatever you’d like. I’ll do anything,” I plead, staring at his back as he walks away, feeling like a fool. But I don’t care. I’ll act a fool just to get him back in my life.
As the door closes without another word from him, I stand there for a while replaying everything in my head. Then, I somberly make my way back to my desk, where I continue to be completely unproductive and stare at nothing while my mind replays all of my mistakes.
Opening the top drawer, I see those light blue panties she left the day it ended. On top of them is the black remote. Both of them stare up at me as a reminder that I will never see Charlotte again. Not as long as Beau has a problem with it.
Picking up the panties, I toss them in the trash can next to my desk. Then with the remote in my hand, I imagine the way she looked when I played with her. That bright smile and gorgeous brown eyes.
“Fuck!” I bellow, tossing the remote hard against the wall and feeling instant gratification as it crashes to the floor in pieces.
Ignoring the mess I made, I grab my keys off the table by the front door. I have to get the fuck out here, and there’s only one place I want to go. I’m tired of moping and feeling lonely. Bile rises in my throat as I think about it, but I need some company tonight. Maybe, if I’m lucky enough, I can fuck away how much I miss her and recover some semblance of the man I used to be.
RULE #34: WHEN YOU’RE A MEMBER OF AN EXCLUSIVE SEX CLUB, THERE’S REALLY NO REASON TO STAY HOME ALONE ON A FRIDAY NIGHT.
Charlie
Turns out leading a group of eight-year-olds on roller skates in the cupid shuffle isn’t enough to cheer me up. I can fake a smile, and I can look the part, but on the inside, I just want to go home and crawl into my bed.
After the song is over, I skate back to the front desk, where I pass out skates and sell glow sticks. When it’s quiet, I remember the two times Emerson came to the rink—the first time to shock the hell out of me, and the second time to shock me even more. I can still see him standing here, talking to Sophie and my mom, and it only makes me miss him more.
When the front door opens, I catch a glimpse of a man walking in, silhouetted by the sun behind him, so I can’t make out who it is. The body and gait of his steps is so familiar, my heart nearly stops in my chest.