Page 97 of Sex Positive
She shakes her head, a pressure building behind her eyes. This is why she didn’t want to see him. She thought she had everything under control. She knew what she was doing. She wasn’t going to involve him.
“Charlie.”
Her gaze locks on his. A calculating look not dissimilar to his father’s gleams in his eye, but this one doesn’t make her afraid.
“Please don’t push me away again,” he says in a measured tone. “Did my dad do something to you?”
Pressing her lips together, she stares at a spot over his shoulder, resignation and relief filling her. She tried pushing him away, but he has always seen her. He understands her, and it was foolish of her to think she could hide this from him.
“He didn’t—” Her voice cracks, and she clears her throat. “Not to me. But he offered me something.”
Wes’s eyes flash. “In exchange for what?” At Charlie’s look of surprise, he scoffs. “I know him. Nothing comes without a price.”
Charlie holds his gaze. “He said he would fund the clinic so we don’t have to worry about raising enough money at the expo. And in exchange…” She exhales, her limbs no longer trembling. “He wants me to convince you to focus on getting into law school so you can one day take your place as the head of his firm, like he’s always planned.”
His eyes widen, and she quickly adds, “He said if I don’t help, he’ll give an anonymous donation to Heartbeat Care to fund the crisis pregnancy center. I don’t know why he came tome, Quinn. I told him I don’t control what you do, but I promise you, even if I could, I wouldn’t.” The moment the words are out of her mouth, she knows they’re true. She won’t accept his deal, anonymous donations be damned. “I would never try to convince you to choose a life you don’t want.”
Wes wraps his hands loosely around his phone, his eyes burning with anger and a fierce determination she’s not sure she’s ever witnessed in him. She’s impressed by his restraint, especially when he shakes his head and lets out a harsh, derisive laugh.
“Thatfucker.”
Setting his phone on the table, he pulls up the call screen and presses a name.
Charlie gapes. “What are you doing?”
Instead of answering, he simply winks. When his father answers on the second ring, he hits the speaker button.
His tone is sharp. “Wesley.”
“Hi,Dad.” Wes leans close to the mic. “Just wanted to call you back and let you know I’m sitting here with a dear friend of mine. Charlie Rogers? You remember her?”
Charlie stares, horrified, realizing the deadly calm on Wes’s face israge.
“She’s just informed me of something very interesting you told her, and I amdone. I’m done with your games. You don’t get to manipulate me and control me anymore. Cut me off financially if you want, I don’t give a fuck. But you can take your preciouslegacyand shove it up your ass.”
Charlie isn’t breathing, certain she’s hallucinating the sound of Wes telling off his dad and blowing up his life.
For her.
“Wesley James,” his father snarls, “you listen to me—”
“No,” Wes snaps. “Youlisten,asshole. Do not contact Charlie or Dr. Angelo or anyone associated with The Wild Rue ever again. If you do, or if I hear one word about an anonymous donation being made to Heartbeat Care to build their ridiculous center, I have no problem going to the press and leaking certain infidelities I’m certain you don’t want going public before Mom announces her campaign.”
A lightning bolt of shock zips through Charlie. She’s unable to tear her gaze away from him—this confident, authoritative man with such blatant contempt for his father.
Silence comes from the other end of the phone. Charlie’s blood pulses in her ears.
“Is that clear?” Wes snaps.
“Yes,” comes the curt voice of Gabriel Quinn.
“Excellent.Fuckyou.”
He hangs up. And then he starts laughing.
“Oh my god,” he gasps, covering his face with one hand. “That felt fuckingincredible.”
When he looks at her, his expression is transcendent, the smile she loves the most stretching across his handsome face. He looks clear-eyed, lighter than he has in months.
