“I can’t believe you’re with a girl like her,” Becky says, shaking her head.
“You need to go and don’t come back,” I say, turning to the bar. When I reach November’s side, she’s already got her Corona.
“I hate women like that,” she says, shaking her head and not looking up from her beer.
“Yeah,” I agree, thinking that I wasted a lot of time on women like that. “You okay?” I ask, pulling her into my side and tilting her head back to kiss her.
“I will be when I finish this Corona and can order another one,” she mumbles against my lips and I smile against hers. I want to tell her so badly that I love her, but I keep telling myself to let her set the pace. “Let’s go back to the table and enjoy the rest of the night.”
Chapter 7
It is Christmas Eve and I’m standing in the bathroom trying to finish getting ready to go to Asher’s parents’. It’s been a month since I found out that I was a millionaire. The only person who knows about my inheritance is my dad. I finally agreed with him that I wasn’t going to give my mom half the money. She hasn’t even called since I’ve been in Tennessee. I tried to call her and even left a couple messages but she never returned my calls. I'm sure if I would have mentioned the money, I would have gotten a call back, but I didn’t want that to be the reason she reached out to me.
My other dilemma is trying to find a way to tell Asher about the money. Every time I am going to bring it up, I wonder if it will change our relationship. I don’t think it will, but you never really know.
We’ve been together for over a month and I still sleep in his bed every night, not that I have any choice in the matter. Anytime I mention staying at my dad’s, he gets a look that tells me if I tried, he would drag me back to his house caveman style. But really, I don’t mind. I love going to sleep with him every night and waking up to him every morning.
“Hey, baby. You okay?” Asher asks, coming to stand behind me, his hands going to my waist and his mouth at my neck. My hands are rolling my hot rollers into my hair. I haven’t even gotten dressed yet. I still have on my tank top and sleep shorts. We got up early and had breakfast, and then crawled back into bed.
“Yeah,” I whisper as the scruff from his jaw runs down my neck to my shoulder. “Um, actually. I need to tell you something.” I breathe deeply, hoping that I’m doing the right thing.
“Tell me.” He bit my earlobe, distracting me.
“I, uh…um.”
“Babe, uh and um isn’t saying much.”
“You’re distracting me. I can’t think when your mouth is on me.” His head comes up and we make eye contact in the mirror. His dimple is out and he has a cocky grin in place.
“You like me distracting you with my mouth.” He reminds me of something that I didn’t need to be reminded of right now. Not when I’m trying to tell him something serious. I glare at him in the mirror and he chuckles. “Okay, baby. Tell me,” he says, putting his chin on the top of my head.
“I'm a millionaire.” Okay, I didn’t mean to blurt it out quite like that, but now it was out in the open. I feel his body tighten around mine.
“What?” he asks. I swallowed and bite my lip. There was no going back. I turned in his arms and put my hands on his chest.
“My mom’s parents left me their estate and it’s over a million dollars.”
“When did you find this out?” I really didn’t want to answer this question. I looked over his shoulder towards the door.
“Eyes on me.” I looked into his eyes again. “When did you find out about this?”
“Um…I…” I bite my lip and look away again.
“Eyes!”He growled this time. “When did you find out about this?” I look into his beautiful eyes and see sadness there and my heart hurt.
“When I went to the lawyer,” I whisper.
“Why didn’t you tell me then?” he asks as he steps back, taking his warmth with him.
“I didn’t want it to change us,” I whisper again, looking down at the tiled floor of his bathroom.
“Have I ever given you that idea?” he asks. I felt like a horrible person for not telling him from the start about the money. It was stupid to hide it.
“No,” I say, looking up at him. I can tell that he’s hurt.
“You’re right. I haven’t, and I have to say I'm f**king pissed that you would even think for one minute that money would change how I feel about you.”
“I know it was stupid. I just wanted to make sure.” His eyes narrow and I know that is the wrong thing to say.
“Make sure of what? That I wasn’t with you for your money? Jesus, what the f**k? I don’t understand what goes on in that head of yours sometimes.” That kind of hurts, but I know he’s right. “I’ve never asked you to pay for shit. I never want you to pay for shit.”
That’s true. Anytime I’ve tried to pay for something, I would get the look that promised I wouldn’t like what happened if I didn’t put my money away.
“You’re right. I know. I should have told you.”
“You should have. I understand why you didn’t. It doesn’t make me happy, but I understand.”
“Thanks,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head on his chest.
“Just don’t keep shit from me. I don’t like knowing that you have kept that secret for over a month.” Crap, I never thought about it like that.