Billionaire's Second Chance - Page 37

I cursed the sloppy edges of the paper, trying to hide them with some silver ribbon that Mom gave me. Rebecca knew I wasn’t perfect and still seemed to love me.

She loved me. Rebecca never stopped loving me. I let that sink in for a bit. I slid the present into the pocket of my jeans and took a bite of the toast that was left over from breakfast. Mom had cooked some eggs for me, too. I’d showed her the present I bought for Rebecca. She gave me a long, serious gaze when she saw it. I knew what she was thinking, but I said nothing.

Every time I was with Rebecca, I fell a little harder for her. Every time that I was inside of her, I went back to the past. It made me realize that no woman felt like her, no matter what their celebrity status or how beautiful they were. It didn’t matter. They weren’t Rebecca. Nobody was.

I wondered what I would do without her once I left. There’s no way we could have a long-distance relationship, even though I could fly her out to me at a moment’s notice. I knew Rebecca didn’t want that for herself in a relationship. She wanted a man to settle in North Reed, where she was settled, and she wanted to raise a family. She made it clear that nothing in my life impressed her as far as my wealth and possessions.

Fuck. I knew that I might love her, and I didn’t know what to fucking do. I couldn’t drop everything and come back here, even though I cared for her and my parents would love the idea. I couldn’t toss all my hard work away: my contacts, my city, and my life there. I dreamed of it the entire time I was in school, and once I moved there, I was convinced that all of my dreams would come true. I couldn’t just walk away and put myself back in the past that easily.

But was I happy in New York?

I looked around the living room and took in the comfortable room, filled with old furniture. I imagined myself in a house here with Rebecca and a family, working some job in town or not at all. I thought about not being manically busy like I was now in the city, with little time for anything other than what I’d call napping. It couldn’t even be called sleep.

I didn’t even have real time for friends or the women I attempted relationships with. The best I could was a quick meal and drinks, along with sex that didn’t even last the night in some cases. I wasn’t an overnight kind of man. In the cases where I was, like Mia, it didn’t work in my favor. I shook my head at the thought of her call to me. Mia actually thought she wanted me back. She didn’t know who the fuck I was, not like Rebecca.

Damn it. My thoughts were so conflicted right now. I dropped the bread crust on my plate and rested my head in my hands. I had no idea what to do.

If I asked Mom, Dad, or Preston, I knew what they would tell me. Stay. Be happy. Enjoy life.

Enjoy love.

I looked back around the room and out the large bay window to see the light snowfall on the ground. New York was beautiful during the holidays. There was no question about that. It was fast-paced, though, and shopping was always crowded, with people practically fighting over gifts in the overpriced stores. I always told my parents that I lived for that rush. I wasn’t sure if that was true anymore.

Every time Christmas rolled around, I tried thinking of new, over-the-top activities for my parents. I wanted to show them how amazing the city was.

Had it worked? Obviously not, since we were spending Christmas in North Reed this year.

I’d avoided coming back home for a long time. I didn’t want to be reminded of what I left behind. I expected it would hurt to come home, but I had no idea of how deep that pain would go. I felt it the first time I saw Rebecca’s face in the salon. She wounded me in ways I thought weren’t possible. I felt it every time we were together. That was the kind of pain that was addictive, due to all the pleasure that came along with it. It was the kind that could kill a man.

For the last several years, I’d been content being addicted to the business of investing. I was happy making millions as fast as I could blink. I wanted to make money to take care of the people I love. I was bitterly disappointed that they didn’t want my money. They wanted me. Not my money or what I could buy them, but me.

Everything I thought I believed was crumbling around me. Less than a month ago, I’d been sure about the direction my life was heading. Coming home had changed all that. I wasn’t certain about anything anymore. I didn’t know what I wanted.

I sucked in deep breaths and reminded myself it was Christmas. It was a peaceful family day. Rebecca would be over with her sister later for dinner. It wasn’t a complicated holiday, but confusing emotions rushed through my head.

“Calm down,” I told myself in a whisper. I closed my eyes tightly. “You don’t have to worry about this right now.”

I was calm enough to take my plate and cup to the sink and wash them. I was thankful that nobod

y came into the room to witness my breakdown. That was the last thing that Mom needed, and I knew Dad was getting some rest. He went to have coffee with friends this morning, even though he looked a little pale to both of us. Mom tried to argue with him about it, but he shot her a stubborn glare and left the house.

Dad wouldn’t follow anybody’s rules but his own. Mom was alone with him, and I knew she had a hard time convincing him to take care of himself. It was a large part of why I came home, to help her out. But I couldn’t come back here permanently. It would be like admitting defeat to the world. I could just imagine the articles in the paper. I was on the Forbes list and well-respected in the business world. Men worked hard to achieve what I did and failed, but it came so easily for me.

I’d commit career suicide by coming back here. I could work remotely, but New York was the place to be to seize sudden opportunities. And I’d miss Wall Street. That was one of the most exciting things in my life the first time I knew that I made it, surrounded by guys who were like my mentors back then.

I wanted my parents to be standing there by my side, seeing what it was that I lived for. I wanted them to know what I dreamed of for so many years.

I wanted Rebecca there by my side, cheering me on. I’d always wanted her to be by my side. She was supposed to come to New York with me. She was supposed to be my girl and love me enough to want the same dreams that I did.

She didn’t, though. She turned me down and broke my heart, despite my denial about that fact. Now that I was back, I was just stabbing the knife a little deeper into my gut every time we slept together. God knows I tried to make it casual last night by turning her face away from me, something I did with a lot of women. I tried so fucking hard.

Then she was on top of me, riding my cock with that sweet body as she milked it. Her gorgeous tits bounced with the movement, making me want to suck and bite them. Rebecca liked that.

I wanted her in New York with me to work out the stressful days in my bed at night. The string of women I got within the city were just warm bodies. They were pale substitutions for Rebecca. I thought I could fuck away the memories of Rebecca, but it never worked. Fuck me. It didn’t work.

I dried the dishes and set them on the rack to dry a little too roughly. I took a deep breath to still my fractured thoughts.

I headed back to my room to ask Preston what was up with the deal. That was a safe subject for me.

Tags: Claire Adams Billionaire Romance
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