Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
That’s the most important thing. It’s the only thing that matters. If we can keep this away from Paul, then we’ve succeeded. We’ve done the right thing.
“Okay,” I say, “thank you.”
I meant it, Kaleb. I don’t have a crush anymore. What I feel for you is way more intense than a silly crush could ever be.
“No problem,” he replies, with that same look on his face: pain, regret, disgust. I got what I wanted. I’ve ruined everything.
So why do I feel like such a failure?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kaleb
“You good, bro?” I ask, sitting at Paul’s bedside. Something is depressing about the dust motes in the air, shifting in the light that slants through the window. They’re like small creatures mocking my friend for his condition.
Paul sits up in bed, a faraway smile on his face. Riley adjusts the blankets at the end of the bed. “He’s on some fairly strong painkillers today,” Riley says.
“He is?” I look at her.
She never seems to want to look at me. I wonder if it’s the whole billionaire thing. I’m used to people behaving strangely around me, as though I’m a different species to them, but there seems to be something else here, too. Or maybe I’m just all keyed-up from the video. Goddamn, she was just a kid, and she wanted me.
“Yeah,” Riley says after a pause. “It was his choice.”
Paul’s smile fades, and he lets out a wheezing breath. “It hurts,” he says, his voice flat. “Too… damn… much…”
Riley leaves, and Paul stays quiet, giving me far too much time to think about that damn video. After the conversation with Sophie, I contacted a security firm I’ve used in the past. They also have electronic forensic capabilities. They’ll be able to study the laptop, keep watch on this place, and hopefully untwist this messed-up knot.
The video plays on a loop in my mind, her braces catching the light. I never dreamed, back then, that that little girl would… Hell, I didn’t think of her at all. She was just Paul’s kid sister. I would’ve helped her if she needed it for Paul. To think she was planning all these dreams, and now they’ve come true for her. I’m forty-two years old, dammit.
“Does it hurt you?” Paul asks, each word drawn out, a drawl, painful to hear.
“I’m not the one who fell off his bike, am I?” I say, trying for a joking tone.
He smiles, then it fades again. He stares into space. “Being here. Not at work. Taking care of Sophie.”
“I’m not taking care of her,” I tell him. “She can handle herself.”
“Still, she needs someone, someone who understands. I don’t want her to see me like this. All dosed up. I don’t want her here.”
I press my hands together, stubbornly looking at the wall. The universe can’t be this twisted and unfair. I refuse to accept it. Even after the video, Paul has no idea how badly I still want—need—his sister. My body and heart stir when I look at her, but that video has bent everything out of shape.
“She knows you were injured,” I tell him.
“I’ll remind her of Dad,” he says, sounding both sad and happy simultaneously. Or maybe it’s sad and high. It’s like the drugs are working their magic, but his real feelings are trying to break through. “Can you put her up for a few days? I need these pills, just for now. I just don’t want to remind her of our parents, sick all the time, taking pill after pill. I need to be strong for her. I can’t take them knowing she’s around here. I can’t, bro.”
The desperation in his voice tugs at me just as fiercely as my hunger for his sister, but differently, obviously. It’s like I’m being torn in two different directions.
“I’ve got the nurses,” he says.
“And security,” I tell him.
He nods slowly. “If Sophie’s away, no harm in that, is there? And you can keep her safe if she’s recognized.”
This request only seems strange to me because I know how badly I hunger for his kid sister. Yet, from his perspective, it’s the most normal thing in the world. Who else would he ask except his rich best friend?
“But,” he continues, “if you’re hiring security, I want control of what information they pass on. I won’t live under a police state.”
This triggers my interest. “Get plenty of secret visitors, do you?”
“That’s my business. We’re watching for your mystery stalker, not any friend who might drop by. Leave it there, please.”
I nod, stunned to hear him like this, so invested. Clearly, it means a lot to him. Maybe it is a woman. Perhaps this request to take Sophie is about more than pills and memories.
“How’s the public drama, anyway?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Things are heating up there,” I admit. “I’m trying to arrange a one-on-one with that fame-chaser from the hospital.”