you came back and we… ‘bonded.’ Was it real? Or have you changed your mind again?”
Just as I go to tell her that of course it was real and that I meant everything I said that night, Monique gets in before me. “And was your little ‘bonding’ session before or after I sucked his cock?”
What little color was left on Anna’s face drains away. I watch her heart break in her watery eyes and quivering lips.
I’ve lost her. Just like that, we’ve split apart as quick as we’d come back together.
When she turns and flees the room, I do what any guy in love would do. I run after her.
But then I remember how fast she was on the track team back in high school. She’s at the elevator within seconds and just as I reach it, the steel, silver doors close in my face.
I press the button frantically but she’s gone, rushing down the floors, getting further and further away from me. Even if I took the fire exit stairs two at a time, I wouldn’t make it. She’d have already jumped into a cab and sped on out of here.
Punching the wall by the elevator, I skin my knuckles and look at the hole I’ve made. It’s big. There are a few specks of blood around the edge, making it obvious that someone has gone full-throttle on it.
With a hefty sigh, I sit down on a nearby chair and scold myself for not telling that bitch Monique to get the hell out of my office the moment she walked in.
What have I done?
How could I have been so fucking stupid?
Anna probably won’t ever forgive me for this, but I’ll be damned if I don’t fight for her.
She’s my future.
The only one I want.
I can feel it in my very core: Anna Fitzgerald is ‘The One.’
Chapter 17
Anna
On the subway, everything is blurry - the carriage, the people, and even my own hands in my lap.
I barely hear the person sitting next to me when they ask, “Are you all right, honey?”
Wiping my eyes, I turn to the dark-skinned lady who offers me a gentle smile. “I’m okay, thank you,” I tell her, but, of course, it’s a lie.
I’m far from being okay. I’m hurt, confused, mortified and, worst of all, ashamed of myself for thinking that Lucas had changed.
Playboy billionaires don’t ever change.
Not even the ones you knew before they inherited their parent’s money.
Even if some deep part of him loves me, it’s obvious he can’t keep his dick in his pants.
Back in Vegas, he’d gone to see his “old friend” – a fucking prostitute who not only has stellar looks, an A-grade body, and tits that even Dolly Parton would raise an eyebrow at, but who also sucked him off.
And right before he came back to the penthouse, declared his feelings, and then screwed me into blissful oblivion.
I mean is that messed up or what?!
When the carriage stops at my platform in Brooklyn, I give a weak smile to the woman and hurry off.
I just want to get home, change into my sweatpants and run until my body can’t take it anymore. There’s nothing like a good, long sprint to ease a problem in your life. Even if the relief only lasts an hour or so.
Once I’ve finished power walking down the street and Dad’s house looms ahead, I jog the rest of the way. His blue Ford isn’t in the driveway. Good. He wouldn’t want to see his daughter like this. Not again. Not after how I was when that asshole, Jake, went from being Superman to bloody Lex Luthor.
Up in my bedroom, I quickly get changed and slip on my black Asics sneakers. The same color as Lucas’s heart. The prick.
But just as I bound down the stairs and make for the front door, it unlocks and opens.
Oh, man. Excellent timing. Not.
“Anna!” Dad says, pushing the door wide. His arms are packed full of groceries and I can only just see his head. Abigail Hartz stands right behind him, unknowingly demonstrating just how much her son’s smile resembles her own.
“I thought you said you were going out tonight?” Dad adds. “With that gentleman friend of yours?”
Keeping a level head, I
Just as I go to tell her that of course it was real and that I meant everything I said that night, Monique gets in before me. “And was your little ‘bonding’ session before or after I sucked his cock?”
What little color was left on Anna’s face drains away. I watch her heart break in her watery eyes and quivering lips.
I’ve lost her. Just like that, we’ve split apart as quick as we’d come back together.
When she turns and flees the room, I do what any guy in love would do. I run after her.
But then I remember how fast she was on the track team back in high school. She’s at the elevator within seconds and just as I reach it, the steel, silver doors close in my face.
I press the button frantically but she’s gone, rushing down the floors, getting further and further away from me. Even if I took the fire exit stairs two at a time, I wouldn’t make it. She’d have already jumped into a cab and sped on out of here.
Punching the wall by the elevator, I skin my knuckles and look at the hole I’ve made. It’s big. There are a few specks of blood around the edge, making it obvious that someone has gone full-throttle on it.
With a hefty sigh, I sit down on a nearby chair and scold myself for not telling that bitch Monique to get the hell out of my office the moment she walked in.
What have I done?
How could I have been so fucking stupid?
Anna probably won’t ever forgive me for this, but I’ll be damned if I don’t fight for her.
She’s my future.
The only one I want.
I can feel it in my very core: Anna Fitzgerald is ‘The One.’
Chapter 17
Anna
On the subway, everything is blurry - the carriage, the people, and even my own hands in my lap.
I barely hear the person sitting next to me when they ask, “Are you all right, honey?”
Wiping my eyes, I turn to the dark-skinned lady who offers me a gentle smile. “I’m okay, thank you,” I tell her, but, of course, it’s a lie.
I’m far from being okay. I’m hurt, confused, mortified and, worst of all, ashamed of myself for thinking that Lucas had changed.
Playboy billionaires don’t ever change.
Not even the ones you knew before they inherited their parent’s money.
Even if some deep part of him loves me, it’s obvious he can’t keep his dick in his pants.
Back in Vegas, he’d gone to see his “old friend” – a fucking prostitute who not only has stellar looks, an A-grade body, and tits that even Dolly Parton would raise an eyebrow at, but who also sucked him off.
And right before he came back to the penthouse, declared his feelings, and then screwed me into blissful oblivion.
I mean is that messed up or what?!
When the carriage stops at my platform in Brooklyn, I give a weak smile to the woman and hurry off.
I just want to get home, change into my sweatpants and run until my body can’t take it anymore. There’s nothing like a good, long sprint to ease a problem in your life. Even if the relief only lasts an hour or so.
Once I’ve finished power walking down the street and Dad’s house looms ahead, I jog the rest of the way. His blue Ford isn’t in the driveway. Good. He wouldn’t want to see his daughter like this. Not again. Not after how I was when that asshole, Jake, went from being Superman to bloody Lex Luthor.
Up in my bedroom, I quickly get changed and slip on my black Asics sneakers. The same color as Lucas’s heart. The prick.
But just as I bound down the stairs and make for the front door, it unlocks and opens.
Oh, man. Excellent timing. Not.
“Anna!” Dad says, pushing the door wide. His arms are packed full of groceries and I can only just see his head. Abigail Hartz stands right behind him, unknowingly demonstrating just how much her son’s smile resembles her own.
“I thought you said you were going out tonight?” Dad adds. “With that gentleman friend of yours?”
Keeping a level head, I
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