Page 5 of The Billionaire's Caress

She raised her crimson eyebrows and made a circle with her thumb and pointer finger then-

“Megan!” I hissed, swatting her hands and glancing around us, like there was a neon sign above our heads, detailing the whole affair.

Under normal circumstances, she probably would have rolled her eyes and reminded me that it was 2017 and having sex with someone was no longer something to be discussed in hushed tones, but we were surrounded by people dressed in everything from headdresses to band tees, screaming and squealing and swaying. We’d driven right past ‘normal’ when I realized that my ex was some sort of rock star...and just announced to the whole world that we were acquainted.

“But he just...” she trailed off, not bothering with miming just how screwed I was. A single finger slashing across her throat wasn’t necessary.

Girl’s night was over.

CHAPTER TWO

Home.

The very word used to be enough to make me sigh with relief. Home was literally where my heart was. Where Hope was waiting for me. Where my husband was. The place where I could peel off my bra and say and do whatever I wanted with no fear that some paparazzo would snap an unflattering picture, or I’d say something that would make its way into the tabloids. Everywhere else, I had to be on. The publicist who was never off the clock, could never show weakness without risking losing the respect of her clients and colleagues. The minute I pulled into the parking lot or walked through the revolving doors at our building, I could just be me. And that was enough. More than enough.

Tonight, I moved like I was in no hurry at all. Counting out each step because there was no keeping pace with the heart that thundered in my chest. I’d rather count each grain of sand that seemed to be coursing through my veins, anchoring my feet to the ground. I missed several rotations of the revolving door, drawing the eye of a child who stared at me, head cocked to the side as she cycled through. She even offered to help me, to hold it so I could hop in, but I just smiled at her and got on with it.

I nodded at the security guard at the desk, a new employee who jerked to his feet like I was a VIP and he was moments away from being reprimanded.

“M-Mrs. Whitmore-“

“Have a great day!” My voice came out like a squeaky mess that made us both cringe. He lowered himself back in his chair, probably making a mental note that he should avoid the crazy Whitmore lady.

I made a beeline for the elevator, grateful that I didn’t have any company. I swiped the keycard to get to the top floors, then took my time typing in the access code for ours.

I pulled off my ballcap and ruffled my curls. Jacob always said he loved my hair wild and if the reflection in the chrome was any indication, I fit that to a T. It suddenly made sense to me that Jacob waited until he was sure I was asleep. I found myself hoping for the same thing, that Hope wore him out and they’d both be out cold. It would give me a little longer to come up with a way to gently break the news that my ex boyfriend, whom I never mentioned because I hoped I’d never have to think about him again, was in town.

Naturally, the elevator made it to our apartment in record time.

The chime that I used to love because it announced that Jacob was home earned a glare from me as I tiptoed from the elevator. No kid friendly tunes wafted down the hall to meet me. Hope’s squeals were nowhere to be heard. The TV wasn’t at a discreet volume because Hope was taking a nap.

I still had my fingers crossed as I rounded the corner...and saw the two loves of my life curled up on the couch.

Everything else in the whole world went still. There were no planes in the sky, no cars below, zipping along on the streets beneath our feet. There were no people milling about, texting, living, loving. The only thing that existed, that mattered to me, was right in this room. Jacob, wrapped in a white t-shirt and cotton pants. Hope, in a white t-shirt of her own, with cartoon characters playing out a scene not unlike the one in the book that was perched on the ottoman in front of them.

I moved closer, my feet whispering on the floor. Whispers swirling around my mind, about how I wish I had my camera, how lucky I was, how perfect they both looked. Even that went quiet when I lingered beside the couch. Breathed the moment in. Jacob’s perfect face, reflected in Hope’s. The rise and fall of their chests.

Maybe you should stop tempting fate and use a few more minutes to get yourself together.

Hating that I wasn’t still tangled up in them, in savoring this piece of heaven, I took a tiny step backward.

The hardwood floor sighed and I held my breath, hoping I wouldn’t wake them.

Who are you kidding? You don’t want to wake him. Not until you have a game plan re: the Corbin thing.

I waited a full five seconds before I turned on my heels, saying a silent prayer to that effect. Please don’t let him stir, wake Hope, lift his eyes to meet mine, and give me a look that reminded me that waking my husband from his nap was the least of my worries.

Somebody important must have been listening because I made it all the way to the stairs without either of them making a peep, other than Hope’s snores. I still didn’t understand how the cutest, loudest sounds could come from such a tiny thing.

It was smooth sailing up the floating staircase, pausing just long enough to pick up a pacifier. I dropped the knick knack on the nightstand and peeled off my badge with a scoff, quickly covering it up with my clothing. I wished it was that easy to erase the events of the evening. To go back and convince Megan that we just stay in. Go back to the moment Corbin’s eyes found me in the crowd and said my name. This time, instead of gawking at him like a deer in headlights, I’d give him the one thing I didn’t have the guts to do the last time we saw each other: my middle finger.

I took the parade of regrets to the bathroom, rolling my neck as I avoided the mirror. Anything reflective. It would just remind me that I was smack dab in the middle of a conundrum. Jacob and I were arguing because I accused him of cheating on me...and I just ran away from a concert because my ex was opening the show.

Just tell him, rang in my head, but it wasn’t like I could just say, ‘So, the lead singer from About Us? He’s my ex’ and we’d just leave it at that. If Jacob came to me with that story, that would be the beginning, even now. He’d quickly follow my admission with a string of other questions.

Did you know he was coming to town?

When was the last time you two were together?

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