Page 4 of The Billionaire's Caress

Echoing all around me.

He shouldn’t have noticed me in the sea of faces. Not with the hat, the hoodie, and the look of horror on my face.

But he said it again.

“Leila Montgomery, is that you?!”

Crap.

I didn’t think, didn’t say a word, all I did was move...yanking a very confused Megan behind me.

Her questions rose up like the swell of the music. Luckily for me, the music drowned out most of her words, but I knew her well enough to fill in the blanks.

“What the-”

(Hell is going on?!)

“...this dude?”

(How do you know)

“I don’t need you to-”

(Drag me to the exit. I need you to-)

“-tell me what’s going on!”

Her last statement came through loud and clear because we reached the outskirts of the crowd, our disruption of the flow already forgotten since the full band jumped in and saved my ass. There was only music now. Corbin’s moment of going off script, squinting into the light like he saw a ghost was a distant memory as he crooned out the words to the song, giving every person their own private show.

I kept moving, putting the music behind us. I pointed us towards the tiny hipster village that had been erected, full of band merch and people selling their wares—and just quiet enough that I couldn’t avoid her questions, even if I wanted to. And from the way she was glaring at me, planting her feet firmly on the ground, snatching her hand from my hold and placing it on her hip, she wasn’t going a step further without some answers.

I turned my back to the music, adjusted my cap, and tried to start from the beginning. “Do you remember when we met freshmen year?”

“...yes?” Megan replied, her expression telling me I was giving her more questions vs. answers. “What does that have to do with-“

“We stayed up late that first night and you told me about Jason and how he was the first guy who made you feel like...” I trailed off, not sure how to describe that feeling. When you realize that it’s more than the butterflies. More than lust. It felt a lot like love but saying that word, now, after Jacob opened my eyes to a whole new world felt...wrong.

A bleary eyed guy with blonde dreads and a Bob Marley t-shirt stumbled up to us, clutching a joint. “Y’all here alone? Wanna-“

“No thanks,” Megan snapped, hooking my arm and pulling me past the cluster of people who were swaying to the music, high off life and other things. We paused to the right of the water tent, and from her bug eyes, I decided we should probably hydrate so she wouldn’t pass out or get sick.

“Since we’re already here-“

“I don’t need water,” she told me with a firm head shake. “If memory serves, I may need another drink if you’re about to tell me that the guy up on the stage is the guy.”

Now my eyes bulged. “Not the guy. The guy is Jacob. My husband. The father of my child.”

She saddled me with a look. “Don’t get all defensive, Lay. I’m not accusing you of anything or saying you’re about to run off with the lead singer from About Us.” She took a breath and moved closer, her voice a little softer. “I do remember that day. It’s how I knew we’d be best friends. It was the first time I said that Jason was a bastard out loud.”

Both of us hit the jackpot with our ex’s in the crushing disappointment department. Her ex? He had a problem keeping his dick in his pants. And somehow, he found a way to blame Megan for his infidelity. She was just too perfect. He didn’t deserve her...so he sabotaged it by sleeping with other women.

Mine? He was destined for greatness...and great men don’t do commitment.

Megan’s green eyes glazed over, lost in the memories. Locked in to her very own uncomfortable walk down Memory Lane.

She jerked her hand to her mouth, like she was screeching to a stop on said lane, her eyes widening as she finally put all the pieces together.

“Wait...the guy up on stage is the dude?! The first guy you ever-”

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