Page 50 of Baby for My Billionaire Rival

I take a few steps after him, intent on catching up, running after him. “Don’t go!”

Jake stops, his hand on the door.

“Caroline Patricia. Upstairs!” Gram scowls from the second floor.

He looks at me hard.

He doesn’t realize the choice I have to make is for him. For us.

When I don’t move to follow him, he goes out the door, slamming it behind him.

Chapter 16

Jake

My phone goes off for the tenth time this morning with a text from Caroline. I haven’t spoken to her since the night at her grandmother’s house. The only reason I haven’t blocked her number is because we have to go to school together.

In my mind, our relationship is over. The second her grandmother questioned my integrity and Caroline couldn’t manage a single word, I knew I couldn’t stay.

My heart has been broken, patched together with the glue from a cheap glue gun.

I didn’t have it in me to tell my family what happened. I’ve continued to pretend like things are hunky dory in love land, and the only reason Caroline’s not coming by recently is because of her busy work schedule during our two weeks off from school. I couldn’t tell them that things beyond our control like our bloodlines were what pulled Caroline and me apart.

To her credit, other than that very first encounter, I never have felt judged by Caroline. But what if I was a poor redneck? She’dlook down on me in a second, wouldn’t she? Just because I’ve got money and a thriving business I’m okay in her eyes.

Does she even really like me for me?

As I cross campus, I begrudgingly decide to look at the texts.

Good morning. I’m looking forward to seeing you today :)

How pathetic. Breaks my heart.

I think we should talk.

I scroll down to the last text. I can’t bear to read the ramblings of a mad woman sending messages into the ether that go unresponded to.

Wait for me!the last one reads.

I frown. What the hell?

Then I hear it, the clomping of high-heeled shoes.

“God, you walk fast.”

Caroline appears on my left side. I can see her gazing up at me in my peripherals. I won’t dare look at her.

“Hey.”

I keep my mouth silent. I won’t dare speak to her either. After all, it’s not like she spoke up for me.

“I know you’re mad.”

Understatement.

“But I’ve been trying to talk to you and explain.”

What is there to explain?

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