Page 99 of The Rebel Billionaire

Moving stiffly, every step careful and controlled, I dropped the sheet, peeled off the stockings I was still wearing, and got in the shower. Numb, I barely registered the hot water. I ignored the shampoo and bottle of body wash. The last thing I needed was to smell like Lucas all day. Instead, I scrubbed at my skin with my hands, then at my scalp with my fingertips, rubbing so hardithurt.

When I felt clean, I turned off the water, roughly dried off, and found clothes in my duffel. Lucas had packed everything in neat piles, careful and precise. My eyes prickled. Iblinkedhard.

No,notyet.

Hefting the bag on one arm, I picked up my ballgown and the bag of toiletries. I could have used the contents in the shower or to brush my teeth. I didn't care. My brain felt wrapped in a blanket, my thoughts sluggish. I just wanted togohome.

Not the house next door. Home. Picking up my tiny purse from the night before, I left, shutting the door behind me. I tossed my stuff in the passenger seat of my truck and got in. Before I left, I textedLucas.

I'mout.

He wouldn't text back. I knew he wouldn't. Still, I kept looking at my phone in my lap as I drove, the dark screen a reminder that Lucas wasn't coming back. Not really. Notforme.

Aiden opened the door while I was still on the front steps. He took one look at my face and said, "I have somethingforyou."

I followed him to hisoffice.

"Sit." He pointed to the long leather couch beneath the window.Isat.

Aiden poured a healthy slosh of whiskey into the remaining glass from his Macallan set and carried ittome.

"Are you planning to return the decanter and the other glass?" he asked. I took the whiskey and gave him a blank look. The decanter? "Please tell me you didn't smash it in a fit of rage. It cost as much as thewhiskey."

"I didn't smash it," I said in a thick, low voice. "I'll giveitback."

"Sweetheart," Aiden said in a whisper, sitting down beside me. He took the glass from my hand, helped himself, and handed it back. "Drink."

I took asinglesip.

"Drinkitall."

I did, my throat burning, the smoky taste tickling my nose and bringing tears to my eyes. When the glass was empty, Aiden took it and set it on the sidetable.

"Tell me," heordered.

I shookmyhead.

I couldn't. I couldn't tell him. If I opened my mouth and admitted what had happened, it would be real. I wasn't ready for it tobereal.

Aiden's arm came around me and he tugged me into his side. My head hit his chest. I tried to breathe, but my lungs were too tight. I heard a low wail and realized it was comingfromme.

"Oh, Charlie. My sweet girl." Aiden rested his cheek on the top of my head. "Is this aboutJackson?"

I nodded into hisshirt.

"Did you break up?" Aiden asked in a gentlevoice.

I nodded again. My cheeks were wet. I realized I was crying. I'd cried more in the last month than I had in the lastdecade.

I wanted everything to go back to how it was before. My body shook in Aiden's arms as great, wracking sobstookme.

I wanted my job back, wanted to work until I was exhausted and forget about dating, about sex. About Lucas. I wanted my boring, stress-filled life to go back to what it wasbefore.

Before I'd bought thathouse.

Before I'd ever seen Lucas Jackson mowing the lawn with hisshirtoff.

Before I'd fallen hopelessly in lovewithhim.