: Chapter 22

I march after her, infuriated. “Where are you going?” I demand.

“To bed.”

“Your bedroom is back here!”

“That isn’t a bedroom, Christopher; that’s a Tinder auditorium. I can hear the moans that are ingrained into the paint.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I explode.

“It means I don’t want to sleep in there!” she cries. “I’ll sleep in the fucking laundry room before I get into that bed.” She marches down the stairs at high speed and up the hall into one of the spare rooms.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I lose all control. “Don’t you fucking dare throw my past in my face. Just because you chose to be a nun before we met, don’t dare judge me for having fun,” I scream as I follow her.

“And now I see the whole picture of just how much fun you’ve had.”

“What the hell are you talking about right now?”

She keeps marching.

“You are judging me based on your assumptions of what you think wealthy men live like. Do you have any idea how childish that is?”

She turns like the devil herself. “Am I wrong?” she demands. “Please, tell me . . . am I wrong? I want you to correct me if I am. That is a show-pony bedroom if ever I’ve seen one . . . do they all gush and goo when they see your apartment, Christopher?”

I screw up my face. What?

“Why are you being such a raving bitch?” I yell. “I don’t know who the hell you are or what malfunction has happened in that brain of yours today . . . but bring my sweet Hayden back to me right now.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t fucking push me, Hayden,” I yell, infuriated. I’ve never been so angry.

“Or what?”

“Or you’ll find yourself fucking single, that’s what. I am not putting up with your fucking tantrums that have nothing to do with the subject we are even arguing about.”

Slam!

She slams the door in my face, and I lose control and punch it hard. It shudders as it nearly comes off the hinges.

“Hayden. You get out here right now!” I demand.

“Go away,” she yells, and I can hear in her voice that she’s crying.

My heart drops . . . she’s upset.

Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, and I drag my hands through my hair as I try to calm myself down. I begin to pace up and down the hallway.

What the fuck just happened?

6:00 a.m.

I’m beat. Didn’t sleep a wink all night, and I still haven’t seen Hayden.

God knows what the hell she’s doing in there.

I write on a piece of paper and put the note on the table near the front door.

Gone for a run,

Back soon.

Xo

I tiptoe out the door and close it behind me as quietly as I can. I get in the elevator and press the ground-floor button.

I need to see my brothers.

Twenty minutes later, the car pulls up to the curb, and I get out and walk. I pass a newsstand on the street and see that they have postcards. I pick two New York ones up. “I’ll take these, please,” I say to the salesman.

“Sure thing.” He bags them up and hands them over, and I put them into my inside pocket. I’ll send these to Eddie later. I’ve been sending him postcards from all over the world. He collects them.

Eddie would fucking love my apartment.

Speaking of which, I’ll call him now. I dial his number as I walk up the street. “Hi, Mr. Christo,” he answers.

“Hey, little buddy.” I smile. “What’s poppin’?”

“Nothing, on my way to work. Running late.”

I can hear that he’s walking fast.

“How was the flight?”

Infuriating.

“Good, good,” I lie. “What time you working until tonight?”

“Close.”

I roll my eyes. Why the fuck do they put a kid on the closing shift? I’ll never know. I glance at my watch to do a time check. “I’ll let you get to it. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Okay, sounds good.”

“It’s good to hear your voice, man.” I smile.

“You too.”

I hang up and cross the street and walk into the café to see Jameson and Tristan sitting at the back, and they both laugh and stand. I smile and almost run to them.

Thank god.

“Hey.” They laugh as they both pull me into a hug. “If it isn’t Romeo himself,” they tease.

I drop into the chair. There are three coffees sitting on the table. They must have been here for a while.

“How was it?” Jameson asks.

“Great, amazing. Incredible.”

Tristan frowns. “So what’s the emergency?”

I called them both early this morning. I needed to talk to someone. I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale in exasperation. “I told Hayden who I was yesterday.”

“And?”

“She went fucking batshit crazy!”

They frown. “What do you mean?”

“I mean . . .” I shrug, lost for words. “This girl—and I’m not exaggerating—is the calmest, most stable, and sweetest human I’ve ever met. I’ve never seen her get ruffled over anything, I mean fucking anything. There is just no temper there . . . or so I thought.”

They listen intently.

“I told her who I was just before the car came to collect us.”

“Why did you leave it so late?” Jameson frowns. “I thought the plan was that you were telling her last week.”

“I was going to . . .” My voice trails off. “In hindsight I should’ve.”

“So then what happened?” Tristan asks.

“I told her who I was, and she went silent. Didn’t speak to me all the way home for twelve fucking hours, and then when we got to my apartment, she went off on a tangent, bringing up bullshit.”

“Like what?” Jameson asks.

“Said she didn’t want to sleep in my bedroom because it was a Tinder auditorium and the women’s moans were sunk into the paint on the walls.”

“She does have a point.” Tristan raises his eyebrows as if considering the statement. “Your entire apartment smells like sex,” he teases.

“I like her already.” Jameson chuckles.

“This isn’t funny,” I snap.

“Sorry.” Jameson tries to straighten his face. “Go on. What happened then?”

I exhale heavily. “She started bringing up my past and chucked the tantrum of all tantrums, marched downstairs, and slept in the spare room.”

They both frown as they stare at me. “When she calmed down, what did she say?”

“Nothing.”

“You didn’t try and talk to her?”

“No. Why would I?” I snap. “I did nothing wrong.”

“You lied to her . . . for twelve fucking months,” Tristan scoffs. “What did you expect?”

“Not this, that’s for sure. And I didn’t lie to her; I just left some minor details out.”

I fall silent, not sure what to say next.

“Well . . . I guess you did it,” Jameson says dryly as he sips his coffee. “Mission accomplished.”

“Did what?” I sigh.

“You wanted to find a girl who loved you for you.” He shrugs. “If this doesn’t count as sufficient evidence, I don’t know what will.”

I roll my eyes.

“She feels betrayed,” Tristan says.

“I haven’t looked at another woman,” I scoff. “How the hell could she feel betrayed?”

“She feels like she doesn’t know you.”

“She knows me better than anyone,” I whisper angrily. “Probably better than I know myself.” I roll my eyes. “I did not fall in love to have someone turn on me at the drop of a hat.”

“Christopher”—Jameson pats me on the back—“women are complex creatures. This is the first fight of many. You’re just beginning to feel the tip of the cock before you get bent over and completely fucked up the ass.”

Tristan chuckles. “Truth. What else did she say when you were fighting?”

“She told me she’s not moving to London and then asked me if I would move for her.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I’m not living in Bumfuck, Nowhere, for her to play with fucking cows.”

“There you go.” Jameson throws his head back and laughs out loud as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “You are so fucking stupid.”

I exhale heavily, and we sit in silence for a while.

“It’s a control thing,” Jameson says.

“She’s not a controlling person,” I say. “Not in the least.”

“Not wanting control and not having control are two different things.”

“She said she’d live anywhere as long as we’re together,” I reply.

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before she knew that where you live is out of your hands.”

“London is beautiful,” I scoff. “I don’t get it. It’s not like we won’t ever come back. We can buy a house in Bumfuck, Nowhere, as well.” I shrug as I look between them. “What’s the fucking problem?”

“She has no commitment to that.”

“She wants a commitment, I’ll marry her tomorrow,” I whisper angrily. “In my mind, I’m already married anyway.”

They both look at me, horrified.

“It’s that serious?”

“Yes!” I look between them. “Are you two dumb fucks listening to me at all? This is her. This is the one.”

Jameson widens his eyes. “Out of all the women in the world, you fall for one that hates money.” He laughs again. “Oh . . . the irony.”

“You think?” I scoff. “I didn’t sleep all night, petrified that she was going to leave me.”

“Give her time. She’ll calm down. It took Claire a while to come around to my life,” Tristan says.

“Same here.”

I can only hope that’s true.

“And for Christ’s sake,” Jameson sighs, “keep your big mouth shut.”

“That’s it?” I screw up my face. “That’s the brotherly advice you’re giving me? To keep my big mouth shut?”

My phone beeps with a text.

Can’t wait to see you today and

finally meet Hayden.

See you at 1.

Mom, xo

“Oh no.” I drag my hand down my face.

“What?”

“I’ve got lunch with Mom and Dad today to introduce them to Hayden.” I roll my eyes. “I completely forgot that I arranged it last week.”

“Tip of the day: keep her well away from Mother. That will be the final nail in your coffin.” Tristan widens his eyes.

“Yeah, good thinking.” I text back.

Sorry mom,

Super jet lagged.

Can we take a rain check?

I’ll call you tomorrow.

My phone instantly rings, and the boys both laugh, knowing exactly who is on the other end.

“Fuck it.” I answer the call. “Hi, Mom.” I fake a smile as I act happy.

“Darling, what’s happening?”

“Nothing, we’re just super tired, and I want Hayden to settle in a little. Can we reschedule lunch for in a few days’ time?”

She stays silent and calculating. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Hayden just found out who I am, and it’s . . . a lot.”

“She’s overwhelmed?”

“Yes.”

“I hope you’re being patient with her.”

I stay silent.

“I can’t imagine how upsetting it would have been if I found out your father had lied to me for twelve months.”

“I didn’t lie, Mom.”

“Yes, you did, Christopher. Blatantly.”

Ugh, not in the mood for a lecture. “I’m going.”

“Call me later.”

“Okay.” I widen my eyes. “Fine.” Last thing I need is another woman busting my balls. I hang up in a rush.

“What are you going to do now?” Tristan asks.

“I don’t know . . .” I shrug.

Jameson smiles into his coffee. “I suggest groveling.”

HAYDEN

I lie in bed and stare at the wall. I feel terrible. Heartbroken and sad.

I’ve cried all night.

The man that I’m desperately in love with doesn’t exist, and I don’t even know what’s real anymore.

Twelve months of deceit.

If he lied about who he is, what else has he lied about?

I keep going over and over our fight last night and how badly it got out of control. How furious I was and the horrible things that I said. I have no idea why his bedroom triggered me . . . all I know is that it did.

And maybe that’s my insecurities, which are my problem and not his. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am discriminatory against wealthy people? Maybe I really do have preconceived ideas about how they are? I mean . . . I don’t know any, so I have no idea why I’m so angry about it.

I just need some time alone to think about things and what it means for my future.

Knock, knock sounds softly on the door before it opens a smidge. “Hayz?” Christopher asks. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

He comes into view, and his face falls when he sees me. “Baby,” he says softly, “look at your eyes.” He sits on the bed beside me and brushes the hair back from my face as he looks down at me. “I’m so sorry. I hate that I’ve upset you.”

Unexpected tears fill my eyes again, and I blink to try to stop them coming.

Stop crying.

“I should have been the adult last night,” he says as his eyes search mine. “And I should have told you sooner.”

“Why did you lie?” I whisper.

He stares at me for a moment before answering and then exhales heavily. “This won’t make any sense to you, and it doesn’t excuse my behavior at all. But . . . everyone in my life knows me as the billionaire Miles Media heir.”

“You’re a billionaire?” I frown.

“You like how I just snuck that in there?”

“Not really.”

Jeez.

“I wanted to experience a life where nobody knew who I was. I wanted to make friends who I knew for certain liked me for me and not my bank balance or my social status.”

I frown as I listen.

“And then I met you.” He smiles softly as he looks down at me. “And you were so different to anyone I had ever met. Kind and sweet. Beautiful.” He frowns. “With a well-hidden temper.”

I smile, embarrassed.

“And I fell madly in love.”

I get a lump in my throat as I listen.

“And it was selfish, I know. But I wanted all the time alone with you that I could get, every single minute, where our life was simple. Because I knew that the moment you found out about my money that it would change your perception of me.”

My eyes well with tears.

It did.

“Hayden . . . my life is complicated. And busy and super stressful. The one pure, joyful, and real thing in it . . . is you.” He lifts my hand and kisses my fingertips. “You have taught me so much about love and what I want from life.”

I smile through tears.

“The man you met on the trip is the real me. I haven’t lied about my feelings about you at all. I can promise you that what we have is one hundred percent real.”

“I have no idea how to live this life, Christopher,” I whisper.

“I know.”

“It terrifies me.”

“I know, baby.” He bends and kisses me. “Just give me three months.”

I frown.

“I have to go to London for three months. Elliot has been looking after everything, and he has a two-month vacation booked. I have to be there to manage while he’s away. I can’t go without you. Don’t ask me to.”

I stare at him.

“If you just . . . try it for three months, and then we can . . .”

“Can what?”

“Reevaluate where you want to live.”

“What if I hate London?”

He stares at me. “Then we have to reevaluate the situation.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I would be lying if I said I did.” He frowns as if getting his wording right. “With my role at Miles Media comes a great deal of responsibility. I don’t have the freedom that a cleaner would have to live where he pleases.”

He kisses me softly as he cups my face in his hand. “Give me three months. That’s all I’m asking.”

I stare at him.

“Hayden . . . I love you. We need to work this out, because now that I know how perfect a life with you is, I can’t go back. And I know this isn’t the life you planned . . . but as long as we’re together, do the semantics really matter?” His eyes search mine, and he looks so lost and sad, and my heart constricts.

This fight is stupid.

I’m upset, and this lie is unforgivable, but on some level, I do understand. I can’t imagine living this life and never knowing what is real.

“You’re right.” I lean up and kiss him tenderly. “As long as we’re together.” My lips linger over his, and his arms snap around me, and we hold each other close, cheek to cheek, raw emotion running between us.

“I’m sorry I was a bitch last night.”

I feel him smile above me. “You really were.”

I smirk. There he is. The smart-ass is back. “Be careful today, Christopher. You are skating on very thin ice.”

He laughs and holds his two hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay.” He kisses me again and then rolls me onto my back and spreads my legs with his knee. I feel his erection grow up against my leg.

“Don’t even think about it,” I mutter dryly.

“What?”

“Sex is the very last thing on my mind today.”

His face falls. “What happened to the awesome makeup sex I hear all about?”

I sit up and climb out of bed. “I don’t know, but it’s not happening now.”

He exhales heavily and flops back on the bed, disheartened.

I turn the shower on in the en suite.

“Well, what do you want to do today?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I guess you can show me around this museum of an apartment, and then I have to go shopping to buy some new clothes.” I take my pajamas off and throw them on the floor as I step into the shower.

“Why do you need new clothes?” he asks.

“Because I’ve been living in the same six outfits for twelve months, and you’re stupid rich, and I look like a beggar.”

He smiles as he leans onto his elbow as he lies on the bed. “Beg me for sex, why don’t you, and I’ll see what I can do.”

I roll my eyes. “Not happening.”

Half an hour later I sit at the fancy marble counter as Christopher makes us an omelet. I look around at the kitchen, and it’s straight out of a magazine. He’s got bacon and mushrooms and orange juice, croissants and all the yummy trimmings.

“How come you have food to cook? We didn’t go to the grocery store yet.”

“My housekeeper does the shopping.”

I frown. “You have a housekeeper?”

“We.” He gestures to the air between us. “We have a housekeeper.” He flips the omelet. “Do whatever you want to the apartment. Make it how you want it. Hire an interior designer if you like.”

What?

“I’m not touching a thing. It’s not my apartment.”

“It is your apartment. You live here, so it’s yours too.”

“We’re not even married.” I roll my eyes.

“We will be.” He gives me a slow, sexy smile and widens his eyes. “Give me time.”

I roll my lips to hide my smile as my stomach flutters. That’s the first time he’s ever said anything like that.

I like it.

I look around some more. I feel like a little kid in some kind of fancy store. I don’t want to touch anything in case I break it.

He puts my plate down in front of me with a quick kiss. “Eat your breakfast, and then I’m taking you shopping.”

“Where do you even buy clothes in a place like this?”

“Madison Avenue.”

“Is there a budget department store there? Because my funds are low.”

“I think I can cover it.”

“No.”

He widens his eyes in jest as he points to my plate. “Eat your breakfast before I march you into the bedroom to be fucked.”

I smirk as I take a bite of my toast.

His phone vibrates on the counter in front of us.

Mom

He keeps eating.

“Are you going to answer that?”

“No. She’s calling to hassle me.”

“About what?”

“She wants to meet you.” He rolls his eyes. “They all want to meet you.”

I stare at him. You learn a lot about a person from their family. And I have so, so much that I want to learn. This will give me a true insight into his life and who he really is.

“Call her back. Organize a dinner for tonight with everyone. I want to meet them too.”

“Are you sure? My family is full on.”

“I mean”—I shrug—“how bad can it be?”

He chuckles. “Pretty fucking bad.”