Page 77 of The Billionaire's Ride

“I’m not sure yet. Truth be told, I never thought a girl like you would ever get involved with a guy like me. This is all new to me. All I know is . . . you make me feel good.”

With his words, a sense of surrender comes over me, and I want to melt into him. I never thought a girl like me could ever make a guy like him feel so good. But what happens when that feeling goes away? “So you want to keep flying back and forth across the world so we can keep sleeping together?”

“No, Kate. This isn’t just about sex,” he says, a glare of anger in his eyes at the suggestion. “I love you, Kate. I’m in love with you.” Drew’s gaze softens with his confession, and my heart takes a fluttery dive into my stomach. I blink, speechless, and breathless. He loves me? No part of me believes this is some kind of play but we’re the same in this way. We don’t fall in love. And we don’t sayI love you.

Except he just did.

My heart’s pounding. How do I handle this? “I don’t know what to say.”

He steps into the space between us and takes my trembling hand in his. “Say you love me too.”

Tears surface and puddle in my eyes. My throat is too tight to speak. Is this love? Feeling like you can fly but terrified of the fall? How can I know it’s not just the amazing sex clouding my brain? I have feelings for him, obviously. Big ones. But neither of us knows anything about love. And certainly, neither of us is any good at it. So what are we doing?

“I don’t know how,” I manage to say quietly.

“I thought I didn’t either . . . until you.” Drew caresses my cheek, and I close my eyes feeling a swirl of emotion. Why is this so hard? It should be easy. If this is love or whatever, then the words would just go flying out of my mouth, right?

Then, my phone chimes from inside my bag, and I look at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that my ride has arrived and is waiting for me.

“My car’s here. I have to go,” I say, reaching for his neck and feeling the stubble on his cheek. “Can we talk later?” He lowers his gaze and nods. “I’ll be back right after the meeting.” I kiss him one last time but his end feels halfhearted.

Drew just stands in the living room with his hands in his pockets, head hanging low. I chew my bottom lip, wishing I could make it better. But I have to go. So I walk away.

On the ride to Winslow Lane and throughout my meeting, I force myself to focus on my business and forget about Drew. But it seems nearly impossible. Somehow, I manage to make it through, negotiating the deal with all the points I asked for. Finally, the CEO extends a hand and says, “Welcome to the Winslow Lane family.”

I offer a polite smile. I should be over the moon. Between my new line and this collaboration deal, I may have single-handedly saved my lingerie brand. And without the help of some slimy VC. I’m happy about the deal. Thrilled even. But all of that’s on pause until I get back to Drew.

I hurry to hail a cab and head back Downtown. Finally, I arrive and race into the house. I just need to see him. Touch him. “Drew!” I call, shutting the front door behind me. No response. Where is he? I venture into every area of the house calling his name but there’s no sign of him. Maybe he went for a walk. Up and up the stairs, passing my father’s art collection, I spy something new. Something I haven’t seen before. In the once-empty spot reserved for Drew.

It’s a framed photo of me. In London. In black and white, except for my dress in a beautiful, vibrant red. It’s the dress I was wearing when I ran into Drew at my store. The day he took me to fix my phone and to the art store. I haven’t seen this one before. It’s the only color I’ve ever seen in his artistic photographs.

Tucked in the corner of the frame is a folded piece of paper. A note.

I loved our time together. I’ll never forget it. I’m leaving for London. It’s for the best. I hope you get everything you want.

—Drew

He left? Without saying goodbye? Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. I race to my phone and call him but it goes straight to voicemail. So I try again and again but it never rings. I read his note over and over until it finally sinks in. It’s over. The end of my London love affair.

His absence becomes so palpable that it hurts like hell. I fall to my knees, sobbing a swamp of murky tears. He’s gone. What have I done?

Chapter Thirty-Eight

KATE

It’s beenweeks since I left New York and nothing from Drew. I called him again when I got to the airport the day after he left. His phone rang. And rang. And rang. I wanted to leave a message but when the moment came, I froze and hung up.

For days afterward, I was glued to my phone but he never called back. Never sent another message. The more time that passed, the more I convinced myself that he didn’t really love me. That we were caught up in a moment in time. That maybe he’s been cruising around Tower Bridge with another woman on the back of his bike.

The thought makes me sick. All of it makes me uneasy. Probably why I haven’t been able to stomach anything.

I find myself scrollingCheeri-Ooh!’swebsite for gossip about him. So far, nothing. I want to call him again. I do. But every time I pick up the phone, I can’t bring myself to dial. I don’t know why. What’s wrong with me? It makes me feel like I was right. Neither of us are good at love, so why make it worse?

Still, I can’t stop thinking of him. I miss him constantly. During the day, I keep busy with work. There’s so much to do with this new deal and my new collection. But at night, when I’m alone, my heart, my body aches for him. I wish things weredifferent. I wish we didn’t have lives thousands of miles from one another. I wish we were the kind of people who could be together for real. But we’re not.

Beau’s been stopping by to check on me nearly every day. I’ve tried to keep a stiff upper lip because I’m afraid if I don’t I will completely unravel, which is what I’ve been trying to avoid this whole time. But today, she brings Garret along with her. It’s Saturday, so I’m in sweats and a messy bun—finally able to dress how I feel.

Like shit.

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