Page 5 of Faking it With My Billionaire Neighbor

I checked the weather report on my phone, and my eyes almost bulged out seeing that I was in the middle of a tropical storm. I panicked instantly.

Will this house hold?

I doubted that very much. It was an old house, still quite strong and sturdy, but I was not willing to test my theory with the impending tropical storm. Especially if it would cause a total blackout.

Which left one other alternative.

Raymond.

I wasn’t sure I was mentally ready to impose myself on him after yesterday's traumatic event. The man was kind enough to save me, but asking to stay at his place to wait out the storm was pushing it.

What was the other alternative though?

Staying in the house with a wild storm brewing and run the risk of being blown or torn apart to tiny unrecognizable pieces.

I shuddered briefly at the image my overactive imagination conjured. I would have to approach him. I only hoped he wouldn't turn me away.

Yesterday might have been a brief stint of goodness, for all I knew he might still hate me. There was only a slight moment of deliberation before I headed upstairs to pack a few things to carry along with me overnight.

I could feel the force of the storm rattling the house around me as I quickly packed my belongings and made my way to Raymond's villa. The wind was howling and forcing me to strain in order to walk straight. I couldn’t and bumped into a palm tree, thankful it’s there to keep me upright. The rain was pouring down as I reached the front door.

I hesitated before knocking, unsure if Raymond would even let me in after our previous encounters. But when he opened the door, all my fears evaporated, because I could see the concern in his eyes as he pulled me inside.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"I had nowhere else to go," I replied, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I’m afraid my old house is going to collapse on top of me!”

Raymond sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Fine, you can wait out the storm here."

"Thank you," I said, feeling relieved. It felt like a huge milestone that had been hung around my neck dropped off. I didn't realize that I'd been holding my breath since I came in. I slowly released it.

"There is an extra room upstairs that you can use in case you feel the need to change or rest. The kitchen is also by the left wing of the house, and there are extra blankets if you’re feeling cold."

Shooting him a grateful smile, I nod slightly. However, as we settled into the living room, a terrifying sound whooshed around us. Then the electricity flickered and went out, leaving us in complete darkness.

I screamed.

“Whoa, whoa. Sophie, are you alright?” he asked anxiously in the darkness as he struggled to light up a set of candles.

I couldn’t answer. I was too busy trying not to choke on this overpowering fear tightening up my chest and making it hard to breathe. I was shaking from my core out to my fingertips and toes!

“Sophie,” he called again, concern coloring his voice as he searched for me in the dark.

Finally, a match lit up, and he steadied it on a candle. His eyes found mine, and in powerful strides, he crossed over to me. Understanding reflected in his eyes and he held my cold hands tightly.

“Are you frightened of the dark?”

I nodded limply.

Shame welled up in me, and I cringed inwardly, mentally preparing myself for his mocking laugh.

It never came.

He brought me close to his impossibly wide chest, crushing me in a tight embrace.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice muffled by my hair. “You’re going to be okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He pulled me back and stared into my eyes. “Take a deep breath.”

I struggled to regulate my breathing, but my heart was pounding too fast for me to concentrate. Lightning streaked the stormy sky, briefly brightening the room before the deafening sound of thunder echoed. They all added to my anxiety, and I struggled to remember the technique Dad taught me to always use for my anxiety attacks.

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