Page 147 of The Playboy Billionaire

The phone pings next to the bed, and I see a message from Caleb. He sent me a pleasant dreams message last night,as he always does, and I’ve been waiting for this morning’s one. I smile.

CAL:

How did you sleep?

I pick up the phone and dial his number. He answers almost immediately.

“I didn’t,” I say.

“I’m sorry, beautiful.” He sighs. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I smile at his contrite tone. Only Cal would blame himself for giving me that kind of news.

“I’m glad you told me.” Not wanting him to feel any worse than he already does. “I’ve spent a lot of the night thinking about it.”

He remains silent.

I inhale deeply.

“I want to meet her. I realised at about three AM that I need to put the past to bed. Stop wondering what happened. Get some closure.”

The silence remains, and I wonder if we’ve been disconnected.

“Cal?”

“I’ll speak to Eli, see what he can find out.”

I take another deep breath.

“No,” I say. “I want to do this, just you and me. If you’re up for it.”

It’s Cal’s turn to exhale loudly. “I’ll always be there for you. Whatever you need.”

Butterflies dance around my stomach. He really has no idea how special he is. This side of him has me falling harder and faster every day.

“Canyouget me the details?” I ask, my breath catching.My mind is filled with countless what-ifs, making it difficult to know where to begin untangling them.

My heart is telling my head this needs to happen, or I will always wonder. If it’s a disaster, then I’ll have to learn to live with it, but I can begin moving forward.

I have trust and abandonment issues. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work out why. This could be the answer.

“I already have them,” he admits. “I’ll send them across. And April. Whatever you choose. I want to be by your side.”

I swallow the lump blocking my throat.

“Thank you. It means more than you can know,” I choke out.

“Whatever happens.”

I smile at his words.

“Whatever happens,” I repeat back at him.

As promised,Cal forwards me Sarah’s details. I ask Scarlett if I can borrow her office. I need to make this call before I run for the hills and use one of the thousands of excuses that have been swirling around my head all morning.

Punching in the numbers, I wait.

“Sarah speaking?”

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