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Without waiting another second, she turns and runs, out of the gazebo, past her father and onto the lawn. “Josie!” I shout, my voice emerging strangled, my blood frozen solid.
I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve.
I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve.
I think of all the times she spent trying to talk to me in the kitchen, instead of being in the den or the backyard with her friends. All the times she snuck into my office and made me laugh, brought me a bowl of something healthy to eat. And as she got older, the way she made me notice, dragging her body against mine at every available opportunity, hope in her big blue eyes. Somehow, despite our ages and the difference in our appearances, she’s loved me all along. And I’ve just reduced her to a high-priced escort, instead of the girl who should be my wife. What have I done?
What the hell have I done?
“Josie!” I shout again, stomping out of the gazebo and going after her.
As soon as I get a hold of her, I’m going to apologize, over and over and over—and then I’m going to put a diamond on her finger the size of fucking Texas. My steps falter when I realize she wasn’t lying about stopping the pill, wanting to carry my baby. Goddamn me for pushing her to such drastic measures to make me realize we should be together.
I’ll never forgive myself.
Ignoring her father trying to get my attention, I jog to the parking lot—just in time to watch Josie peel out in the Rolls I gave her, tears streaming down her face.
“Josie, stop!”
Either she doesn’t hear me or simply disobeys, continuing out of the parking lot.
And I’m already shouting at the valet to have my limousine brought around.
I’m going to win my girl back.
Now.
Today.
My sanity won’t be able to stand another minute of knowing I upset her, broke her heart. That I refused to see what was right there in front of me. But if she’ll take me back, if she’ll forgive me for being a blind fool, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her, so help me God.
Chapter Eight
Josie
I’m never leaving my bedroom again.
Maybe I’m not ready for adulthood or college or big decisions. Maybe I’m just a stupid, eighteen-year-old kid. What was I thinking, trying to scheme Gunner into a relationship? He doesn’t want a child for a girlfriend. Sex is one thing, but going public when his persona is so important to his multi-billion-dollar company? I was naïve to think that was ever a possibility.
Still wearing my bikini, I roll over and bury my face in a pillow. It’s wet from my tears and I dive headlong into another crying jag now, the sound muffled.
I miss Gunner.
I love him so much.
Even now I could be carrying his baby. What a scandal that would be. I’m sure if I’m pregnant, it’ll be kept hush hush and I’ll be shuttled abroad somewhere until I can deliver the baby, passing it off as a distant relative or something. Or maybe Gunner will want full custody. Who is going to fight him when I’m the teenager who tricked him into sleeping with me? Into…everything. He never cared deeply about me. It was all in my eager imagination.
And I deserve this. To be alone and humiliated.
I lied to him.
I manipulated him into a sexual relationship with me after he explicitly said no.
But I just thought…I swore if we just had some time together as adults, the love inside me would be contagious. It’s so big and mighty. How can it not be?
While Gunner was away on his business trip, I started to doubt my dreams. I started wondering if being with Gunner, as his real girlfriend, was far-fetched. It made me so depressed, so nervous, I stopped answering his calls—and then when I saw him at the country club, I immediately called myself a moron for not spending every single second possible with him, in any capacity I can get. But the consequences of those lies were beginning to come to a head, making him doubt my intentions. Making him doubt me. I waited too long to tell the truth and there is nothing I can do to fix the damage I’ve done.
He must hate me.
Or he’s laughing at me, thinking my love is nothing more than a crush.
And worse, I’ve made things awkward between Gunner and my father, to say nothing of how I’ll ever look my father in the eye again after he caught me and Gunner having sex. Paul will probably hate me—and who can blame him? I’ve let my infatuation, my obsession with this man turn me into a liar. A girl who will stop at nothing to get what she wants.
