Elliot stares at me, the hurt in his eyes a breath away from devastation. For a man who spent decades hiding his emotions, he’s suddenly an open book—one I don’t want to read. Something sharp twists in my chest as his expression shutters closed, his vulnerability replaced with a blank mask I recognize all too well.
Without a word, he turns and walks toward the bedroom. I expect him to shout, to argue—that’s what people do when I set boundaries. Instead, his silence lands much harder. Devastating in its own rite.
I watch his naked form disappear around the corner. The soft rustle of clothes reaches me, then the brief sound of running water in the bathroom. He’s leaving. Of course, he’s leaving.That’s what I wanted, isn’t it? Space. Control. Distance from whatever happened last night in that alley.
So why does my chest feel hollow as I listen to his movements?
“Fuck,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.
The front door opens and closes with a quiet click that somehow sounds more final than if he’d slammed it.
“Fuck!” I say again, louder this time, hurling my empty glass across the room. It shatters against the wall, the sound breaking the silence Elliot left behind.
I drop onto my couch in nothing but my boxer briefs, feeling suddenly exposed despite the minimal clothing. My penthouse—usually my sanctuary—feels wrong somehow.
What the hell is happening to me? I’ve had dozens of men and women before Elliot. I’ve had women beg to stay. I’ve had them cry when I dismissed them. None of it ever touched me like the quiet dignity of his exit.
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes until I see stars.
What have I gotten myself into? The Hunt was supposed to be simple—a game. Claim him, fuck him, control him. But now the rules feel insufficient, like trying to contain the ocean in a teacup.
25
ELLIOT
Imake it halfway down the block before my legs threaten to give out. Leaning against the cool brick of a building, I take a shuddering breath, trying to steady myself as Julian’s words echo in my head.
“This isn’t a relationship.”
“Words like that have no place between us.”
God, I’m such a fool. After all this time hiding, I finally come out—not just to myself but to my friends—only to fall for someone who sees me as nothing more than an experiment. A year-long fuck toy to be used and discarded.
I flag down a cab and give the driver my address in a voice that doesn’t sound like mine. As we pull away, I watch Julian’s building shrink in the rear window, wondering how something that felt so transformative to me could be so meaningless to him.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. For one pathetic moment, I hope it’s him. It’s not.
Mom.
Perfect. Fucking perfect timing.
My finger hovers over the decline button, but guilt wins out. I haven’t spoken to her in weeks.
“Hello, Mom.”
“Elliot, darling.” Her voice carries that false warmth. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days. Where have you been?”
Fucking a man in front of Ravenwood’s elite. Coming out to my friends. Falling in love with someone who sees me as disposable, beneath him.
“Work’s been busy,” I manage. “Sorry.”
“Well, I’m calling because I have wonderful news. Remember Caroline Peterson? Judge Peterson’s daughter. She’s divorced now, and I happened to mention you at bridge club...”
I close my eyes as she chatters on about this perfect woman whom she’s determined to set me up with. The irony would be funny if it didn’t hurt so much.
“Mom, I can’t—” My voice breaks. “I can’t talk about this right now.”
“Elliot? What’s wrong? You sound strange.”