Page 24 of Rulebreaker (Gamebreakers #4)

TWENTY-FOUR

Lily

Tonight.

I’m going to tell him tonight.

It’s been a week since I left L.A. but there’s another weird break in my schedule, something to do with some kind of sporting event, so I’m back here and keeping my head down as I speed walk through the airport to where Atlas is waiting.

All I’ve got is a carryon and a backpack, so I don’t have to worry about luggage.

Once we’re at his house and settled–before our hormones take over–I’m going to tell him everything.

I need him to understand there’s a timeline and that I’m tied to it.

Nothing about my marriage to Stan has been easy–divorcing him is proving to be even harder.

But more than that, I’m hopeful that he’ll be sympathetic and give me the support I’m going to need to get through the next year.

I know it’s a lot to ask.

I know it’s complicated .

And I’m terrified it’s going to make or break us.

“Hey, beautiful.” His lips are warm against mine the moment I slide into his car.

It feels so damn good to touch him.

“Hi.” I’m breathless the moment our lips meet but the connection is lost too soon as someone lays on the horn and he’s forced to pull into traffic.

My thoughts are jumbled and I clench and unclench my hands in my lap but Atlas takes an unfamiliar turn that catches my attention–we’re definitely not going toward his house.

“Where are we going?” I ask, snapping out of my reverie.

He smiles. “It’s a surprise.”

Dammit.

This is not the night for surprises.

“What kind of surprise?”

“You’ll see.” He takes my hand and squeezes it. “You okay? You’re a little clammy.”

“Oh.” I try to shrug it off. “I think I got a touch of motion sickness with the bumpy landing and now with all the start and stop traffic.”

He seems surprised. “Do you get motion sick? You’ve been fine on the plane.”

“Not usually but every once in a while.” That’s a lie, and I hate that I’m lying to him yet again, but how else am I going to explain my clammy skin and the tightness in my chest?

I could tell him everything now but–

“Well, if it continues, I’m sure I can get something for you once we get where we’re going.”

“Why does it look like you’re heading back into the airport?”

“Maybe because I am.” He grins. “Now stop asking questions. You have to wait until we get there.”

“Atlas…” Of all the nights for something like this .

I had a plan. Tonight is the night I come clean, clear the air. Instead, he’s being his usual wonderful self and planning something I can only imagine is going to be fun.

This guy is truly the whole package–which is why I’ve had such a tough time finding a time to tell him my secret.

Listen, babe, I’m married. It’s not a real marriage–and we’re legally separated but–

Even in my head that sounds ridiculous.

So, babe, there’s something you need to know–my husband is sick and there’s only a year left before the prenup runs out…

Ugh.

That’s worse.

How the hell am I going to tell him? Are there any words that will soften the blow?

I’m fucking married.

It’s complicated, and I’m legally protected by a formal separation agreement, but in my heart of hearts I know Atlas is going to feel betrayed. Hurt. Disappointed.

And I don’t know if there’s any way to lessen the impact of what I have to tell him.

Maybe if I start at the beginning…

“Babe?” Atlas’s voice is filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been extra quiet. Do I need to get you something for your stomach?”

“Sorry, no. I’m fine.” I snap out of the dark space my thoughts took me to and realize we’ve just pulled up at a helipad. “Atlas, what are we doing? Do I need to change?”

“First–presents.” He gets out of the car, goes around back and pulls a large gift bag out of the trunk.

“What in the world…” I stare in fascination.

Something tells me whatever he has planned is going to be over-the-top. And it involves a helicopter. Leave it to Atlas .

“Open it.” There’s a faint smile playing on his lips, his eyes burning with a combination of excitement and amusement.

Despite my worry, I can’t help but dig into the bag. The first thing I touch feels like silk and I pull out something long and slinky. It’s red, the same shade as the lipstick I wear that he loves so much.

“I stole a dress out of your suitcase when you were here last and sent it to the shop so they could find something that would fit.”

“I wondered what happened to my little black dress,” I say with a soft laugh. “You’re sneaky.”

“I can be.”

From what I can tell, the dress isn’t long but it isn’t short, somewhere in between with gold metallic straps and soft, fluttery waves at the bottom. I can tell from the cut it’s going to fit me like a glove, and I sigh happily.

“This is beautiful,” I whisper. “And thoughtful. But I don’t–”

“Keep going,” he encourages. “There’s lots more.”

This time I dig in with excitement, because when your gorgeous, thoughtful and stupidly rich boyfriend buys you presents, it’s bound to be special. I feel a large box and my gut tells me it’s shoes.

Ah, yes.

To go with the dress.

My heart nearly explodes with excitement.

Jimmy Choos.

My favorite—how the hell did he know that?—with rhinestone straps and the tallest, sexiest little heel.

I don’t bother checking the size–Atlas is too much of a perfectionist to leave anything to chance.

“You’re going to have to hold my hand a lot if you want me to walk anywhere in these,” I say with a grin .

“Holding your hand is absolutely part of my plan,” he responds solemnly.

When I look into the bag for the third time I see another, much smaller, box and I recognize the name of the jeweler. Holy crap, this is going to be extravagant.

I pull it out slowly and glance at him before opening it.

The gold and ruby-crusted necklace is stunning.

The thick gold band is a solid piece, not a chain, with a grid of at least a dozen rubies randomly placed where it comes to a point.

The rubies have to be a quarter of a carat each, if not a little more, and the effect is breathtaking.

The matching earrings aren’t bad either and though my gut instinct is to say, “You shouldn’t have,” I know that’s ridiculous.

This was a thoughtful, romantic gift and I’m not going to minimize it by acting coy.

“Atlas. This is…gorgeous. Thank you.” I lean over, pressing my lips to his. Our mouths linger, kissing and nuzzling, a mutual hunger brewing beneath the surface. Always. “I can’t wait to wear it all.”

“Then you should hurry up and change in the suite I rented. Our ride just arrived.” He glances over to where a helicopter has just touched down.

“Where are we going?”

“Go change.” He winks, motioning to the building we’re parked in front of.

I gather up everything, gently placing it all back in the bag, and slide out of the car.

“Texas.” His voice is warm and deep, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

I turn, glancing over my shoulder.

“Don’t forget the lipstick.”

My lips curl into a mischievous grin. “I ordered five more tubes so I always have one handy, including one for your house.”

“That’s my girl.”

My girl.

I’m equal parts thrilled and horrified. I love the idea of being his girl but I’m nervous about his reaction once I tell him everything.

That’s why I have to get it over with. I just don’t know if this is the time. Do I really want him to dump me while we’re on a helicopter heading who-knows-where? It’s better to wait until we’re back at his place.

I quickly strip and slide the gorgeous new dress over my head, not even bothering with a bra.

The fabric glides over my curves like it was made for me and I stare in the mirror, a little awestruck.

The woman staring back is a stranger because the Lily I’m used to seeing always has a bit of a haunted look in her eyes.

This Lily–the Lily who’s in love with Atlas Delarosa–has a glow that’s hard to place.

When was the last time I was truly in love?

When I met Stan?

No, that wasn’t love. It was admiration and a few other things, but not love. Not even in the same ballpark as what I feel for Atlas.

I dab some color on my cheeks, add a layer of mascara, and then carefully line my lips with the lipstick and liner Atlas loves. Starstruck Red. It’s a special edition a Nashville-based cosmetics line produces, but they always have some for me. Atlas may have to invest stock in it or something.

Slipping my feet into the new shoes feels decadent and I smooth down the dress.

All that’s left is the jewelry. I slip the necklace around my neck easily since it doesn’t have a clasp and then put the earrings in–and the final look is pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. Frankie might say I look like a princess, but princesses don’t exude this kind of power.

And tonight is all about power.

There’s romance and excitement, but I’m now part of a power couple. The billionaire and the pop star. I haven’t quite reached nine zeros yet but I’m getting there, and God only knows exactly how much Atlas is worth.

Standing here in a dress that probably cost more than some people make in a month, and jewelry I know cost even more, I feel like a woman who has it all.

Except I don’t.

Not yet.

Not until I tell him everything.

If we can get past that, we’ll make it through anything.

I straighten my shoulders and toss my hair.

I’m going to do it right now–get it the hell over with.

I can’t stand the idea of?—

My confident stride stalls out the moment I open the door.

Atlas is standing there in a tuxedo, yet another gift bag dangling from his fingertips.

Everything I was going to say dies on my lips as I take in the most intoxicating man I’ve ever known.

“What, did you forget the bracelet?” I finally ask, opting for levity.

But he’s dead serious. “I can have it sent ahead for you if you want it.”

“It was a joke!” I’m so flustered now, I snatch the bag and open it.

A purse.

That matches the shoes.

Of course.

I can’t wear a dress like this and then toss my backpack over my shoulder. “You’re going to mess up my lipstick now, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t even blink. “I don’t know–am I?”

I throw my arms around his neck but manage to refrain from kissing him. “Now will you tell me where we’re going?”

“Oak Ridge Winery in Northern California. I rented it out for the night.”

“Oak Ridge! I’ve been dying to go there.”

His smile is both disarming and wicked. “I know.”