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It’s obvious to the world.
Jet Grant has crashed into me, breaking everything I’ve spent years trying to fix.
“I don’t care what your reasons were. I don’t care if it was the last option you had. It wasn’t yours to give.”
“Ava.” He steps closer, lowering his voice.
I take a step back. “Why?”
“It’s just business,” he replies, simply.
“Business?” I choke.
“The airline is everything to me. It’s my future, it’s all my employees’ future. I chose them. I had to.”
“You stole my story. It took me ten years to be able to write that, to be able to even think about it. And you took it after knowing me for two months. Like it belonged to you. Like you had the right. You didn’t.”
I drag in a splintered breath. I thought I needed to see him face to face. To confront him. To make him look me in the eyes as I ask him why he did it. But staring into the same light irises that have held mine so many times as I’ve poured out my heart to him, handed him myself, physically and mentally, over and over again, hurts so much that I’m scared I’ll disappear with the pain. Implode silently.
Surrounded by people this time. But still alone.
“You forged my signature on those papers,” I continue through a choked breath. “I was stupid. I didn’t even read them. I’ve been so caught up being in LA with Mum. I’ve not felt happiness like this in years. I trusted you. I never… I never even read them…”
He’s silent, watching me as I rub at my burning chest.
“I confided in you. I… We’ve been sleeping together for weeks,” I hiss.
“Twenty-nine days.”
“What?”
“It’s been twenty-nine days since we…” His brows pinch. “This is the happiest you’ve been in years?”
I fold my arms, turning away with a tight nod. “The happiest since…” I can’t finish the sentence.
“You were happy?” he repeats my words, inclining his head to make me meet his eyes again. They bore into mine, making my breath hitch.
“Iwas. I had everything I ever dreamed of. Being here with Mum. Traveling. Seeing the world. Then you ruined it, you selfish bastard. How could you?”
He runs his tongue over the edge of his perfect teeth, taking his time to study me, ignoring the curious glances we’re attracting from passing guests.
“I never told you I was a good guy, Ava.” Something passes over his face that I can’t read.
Then again, even when I’ve thought I can read him, I can’t.
I have no idea who he is. Not really.
“No, you didn’t. And now you’ve proved it. What was it I signed, huh? A contract? Rights for my story to be made into a fucking movie? Ophelia said—”
Jet’s nostrils flare. “You said you were ready. You said—”
“You mean when we were in the middle of fucking?” I screech, drawing more attention to us. “When youthought it was a good idea to tell me I was too scared, and that I should just do it. Was it then, huh?”
“I’ve apologized for that, I’ve—”
“All I’m hearing is you.” I push him, but his solid body doesn’t budge. “What you want. What you need. It was never your call to make. How long have you known she’s a producer?”
His jaw tightens.
