“Beau.”
“No, like I said the other night my money is literally sitting there doing nothing. I could buy the place outright and save you the stress and headaches, but I’ve agreed to letting you try it your way first. If that doesn’t work, we try it my way.”
Payne’s expression softens. “Since when did you become so stubborn?”
“Since I’m determined to see you succeed.”
He looks like he still wants to argue—or thinks he should, at least. And then, he relents. “Fine. If I fail, we do it your way.”
I turn to Trent. “How does that sound?”
“I’m interested. Very. It means keeping the land together and seeing it used for a good purpose. I’ll have to run it by my parents and our Realtor, but I think they’ll be on board.”
My excitement skyrockets.
Trent finishes up his wings and leaves us to it with a promise to call later in the week. I wait until he’s out of sight before I throw my arms around Payne’s neck.
“Holy shit, I think it’s happening.”
His warm laugh is loud in my ear as his hands settle on my lower back. “Here’s hoping.”
“I’m buying you a drink. Multiple drinks. Let’s have lots and lots of drinks to celebrate.”
His eyes are soft as he pulls back, and it makes my heart feel funny. “It might not happen yet.”
“Of course it will.”
“And if Trent’s parents say no? Or the agent points out it’s not a smart move?”
“Then your plan fails and we move to mine.”
“After twelve months.”
I tilt my head and squint my eyes like I’m trying to remember. “I don’t think that was stipulated.”
“Ah, so you’re stubborn and sneaky?”
I smile innocently, and Payne shakes his head.
“In that case, I guess celebration drinks are in order. I’ll buy.”
“A rusty shank, thanks.”
He leaves and buys the round, then returns with two glasses each. “Couldn’t be bothered getting up again.”
“Fair enough.”
We toast, and I’m fighting fluttery feelings the whole time.
Payne takes a long drink, watching me over the top of his glass. He swallows, sets it down, then clears his throat. “You know, the reason I wanted to do this solo was, well, I’ve never had anything that was mine. And look at how that turned out. My apartment, my husband, my job, my life … all gone. Because I shared them with the wrong person.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “I get it. And I respect the hell out of you for wanting to do this by yourself. But … I don’t want a claim to any of it. Sure, if I end up putting money in, we’ll have to get something drawn up to show my investment, but that’s all it is. An investment in your business, and one day when you’re absolutely killing it there, you can pay me back.”
“And if I don’t end up killing it?”
“Then you sell the place and give me back what I’ve put in, even if it’s worth a crap ton more.”
He chuckles. “What if it’s worth less?”
“Then I’ll take the same percentage loss as you.”
He looks conflicted, so I reach over and take his hand. His fingers immediately lace through mine.
“I know you can do this. And it will be yours. Even when we stop hooking up, I don’t want to take this from you. I don’t want to own you or for you to feel indebted to me. We’ll have a contract drawn up that we’re both happy with and then never mention it again until we need to.”
He stares at me for a long moment. “This being a possibility makes it feel like I can breathe again. I’m excited, which isn’t something I expected after everything that went down.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“The weird thing is, I don’t doubt that for a second.” He squeezes my hand. “Even though I hope I don’t need to rely on you again, you have no idea what this means, Bo-Bo.”
“Well, if you don’t want to rely on me, I guess we only have one option here.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I lean forward. “We make sure your plan fucking works.”
“Deal.” We toast again and down the rest of our drinks before Payne pulls me from my chair. “Come on, celebratory drinks are done. It’s time for some celebratory sex.”
“Sounds like the perfect ending to the day.”
27
Payne
Is it possible for the worst moment of your life to lead to the best?
A few months ago, I would have told those everything happens for a reason people to go and suck a fat one, but now I’m on a trajectory that feels so undeniably right, I’m finding it hard to be negative about anything.
Well, except the message I got from an unknown number last night.
All it said was we need to talk, but I know without asking that it was Kyle. Normally that kind of thing would have prompted me to reach out or to turn to his OnlyFans to remind myself of why I left, but all it did was make me feel sad for the life we were building together.
And then I went and climbed into bed with Beau, and the sadness miraculously went away. He’s shown me that there are people deserving of my time and others who aren’t, and I’ve wasted enough of it on my ex to be able to confidently walk away without doubts now.
Which is why I stopped by the store on the way home and bought every coloring book I could find. I figure a guy like Beau isn’t going to be impressed by flowers or chocolates or whatever, so this can be my offering.
A way of asking him to stick it out for a little longer, because I’m almost there. I have a goal and drive to get there. Only a few things to bump off my list, and then I’ll be able to be the man he needs me to be.
Sure, I’ve been wrong in the past when it comes to who I’ve put my trust in, but as much as I’d like to say Kyle’s behavior was totally out of character, there’s a small part of me that wasn’t surprised. It’s not that I didn’t love him, but I also didn’t turn a blind eye to his faults.
He liked attention and being the best-looking man in the room. He suggested filler for the wrinkles I was getting and tried to convince me to have injections in my lips. None of that shit is me. And while none of it was malicious, it does make me question if, in the end, I wasn’t enough for him.
He didn’t like my tattoos or messy hair. He didn’t like when I went weeks without shaving. I’m sure there was a part of him that did love me, but to him, my faults were clearly more than he was prepared to deal with.
Beau’s seen me at my lowest. He knows I have sweet fuck all outside of an idea and motivation to make it happen, and yet somehow, we work. He’s a neurotic workaholic, and I’m a struggling divorcé, but when we’re together, we’re just … us.
Which is why I want to tell him how I feel.
I’m sure he knows. It’s not like I’ve been subtle about it. But to move forward with him, I need to put my past behind me.
I pick up dinner from a steak place on the way home, and I walk in to find Beau at his desk like he so often has been lately, hammering away at his computer. He must be finishing up because as soon as I enter the kitchen, he stops what he’s doing and swings around in the seat to face me. His glasses have slipped down so only half of his eyes are magnified, and his white T-shirt has the telltale markings of spilled coffee.