Page 16 of Jacob
“No.”
She grabs her phone from her rucksack. The one I helped Owen buy for her because I saw her swooning over it one lunchtime. She loves it because it has multiple hidden pockets, it fits her laptop, converts to a purse with a top handle, andlooks cute. It’s Parisian chic. Supposedly.
She taps her phone as if in a crazed frenzy.
“Is that why you call me Butterfly?” Her voice remains steady as she pushes it under my nose.
And there on the screen is the track listing of that entire album and a little inset picture of the cover. I rest my head against the headrest, watching the countryside swoosh by in a blur. My stomach feels like a washing machine on the fastest spin cycle.
I’m the guy that pushes everything deep down into the pit of my soul because I’ve had to. I’ve had to hide my feelings for all these years, not only from my best friend, but also from her. She has no idea just how engrained into my heart she is.
But the last few weeks have changed everything, and my hidden emotional filing cabinet has been unlocked and flung open with such force that everything has slipped out around me and I have no idea how to start packing it away again… orwhether I even want to try. It’s too much. I can’t deal with all of her questions and my emotions at the same time. I’m not dealing with any of it well at all. I feel sick to my stomach that I’m being a complete jerk around her.
Perspiration beads across my forehead. I remove my dress jacket, carefully laying it on the seat opposite me before I loosen my tie and undo my top button. Nausea bubbles in my stomach like a boiling cauldron.
“And the tablet and pen? You bought that too?” She’s persistent, I’ll give her that.
Balls to the wall, I go down the full-disclosure route when I reply, “And the rucksack you’re using.” I raise my eyes to meet hers. I’ve got nothing to lose because I’ve already lost her. I lost her the minute she started dating Owen. “Your phone cover. Wallet. Earrings last Christmas,” I add.
I stare into herwhy have you never told meeyes, for what seems like an eternity.
Her shocked face softens. “Right,” she eventually mumbles, then she starts chewing her top lip.
Breaking our gaze, she reaches over to the drinks storage and grabs a bottle of water. Almost finishing its contents in one go, she screws the top back on and rests it in her lap. And for the rest of the car ride, the hour-long private plane journey, and our transfer to the hotel, we don’t say anything to one another.
7
JACOB
“Two room key cards to the penthouse.” The hotel receptionist looks back and forth between me and Skye as she slides the keys across the reception desk.
“Penthouse? I didn’t book the penthouse.” My voice raises an octave.
“I’m sorry, sir, there was a mix-up with the rooms. Unfortunately, our reservation software overbooked the hotel’s capacity, and we had no rooms to offer you other than the penthouse. You could try elsewhere, but I don’t think you’ll find anything else—I know all the other hotels nearby are fully booked tonight as well. It’s a complimentary upgrade, sir. It has two double rooms, a lounge, private elevator, luxury bathroom as well as an outdoor patio area with a hot tub. It’s all we have left.” The hotel receptionist tensely smiles.
“But my assistant booked two double rooms.” I grip the edge of the black marble check-in desk. “I have the email confirming the booking.”
I cannotshare a suite with her.
The receptionist taps one long manicured fingernail against the hotel computer then looks up. “I really am very sorry, sir. It’s the only room we have available for the next four nights.”
Skye leans forward and slides the keys off the cool marble. “We’ll take it. Thank you.”
“Skye,” I warn her.
She moves closer to me then whispers, “So, we have to share the penthouse. Big deal. I’m hardly going to jump your bones now, am I? You’re. My. Boss.” Skye smiles sweetly. “Unless you want me to, Jacob?” She wraps her finger around my silk tie and gives it a playful tug.
I swat her hand away and smooth my tie back down.
“Loosen up, big guy. I’m kidding.” She rolls her eyes before making a beeline for the elevator.
“Looks like we’re taking the room.” I fake a smile at the hotel receptionist, who tucks her lips into her mouth to hide her amusement.
Grabbing the handle of my suitcase with force, I roll it in Skye’s direction.
When the elevator arrives and the doors slide open, I storm into the steel box as Skye elegantly strides in beside me. I hit the penthouse button and tap my key card against the security reader, instructing that we are ready to move. I want to get out of this small space.
I open my mouth to say something, but the elevator bell pings, and the doors glide open to reveal the most incredible penthouse I have ever stayed in.
