Page 179 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Abby

It’s been a week since he messaged me and told me a little bit more about himself…

Totally unprompted. For the first time, Cade shared himself with me, and while I appreciate that, it feels like too little, too late.

Maybe, the fact that he can tell such a big lie to me, that he isn’t above using his friendship with my brother to get to me, is a little too much for me.

Of course, it’s wrong that he did it, but that he would go that far to keep me in his life is…

Mindboggling, and maybe, even a little flattering.

I shake my head. What’s wrong with me? Have I spent so much time with him that I accept, and in fact, expect that him doing what any normal person in a relationship would do is his way of going above and beyond and showing his devotion to me?

I put away the phone, which I was gazing at, in the hope of hearing from him.

Which is stupid. I didn’t reply to his messages, and he went silent.

I know he’s not on tour because the news is full of stories about how he was injured and temporarily stepped down from his duties as Captain of the English cricket team.

There was no mention of the reason for his injuries.

And his social media feeds haven’t been updated.

Guess Zara didn’t find anyone else to take on my role.

I noticed some angry comments on his last post from fans who were upset he hadn’t joined the team on tour, which was to be expected.

Maybe, I should have texted him back? That way, he’d keep in touch with me, and I’d know more of what he’s up to.

Which, let’s be honest, I shouldn’t care about anyway.

I pick up the phone, then set it down. Nope, not what I should do.

Not when I’m still angry with him. He misconstrued my texts as my opening a channel of communication with him—as I predicted he would, but stupidly forgot—and I’m still not sure what I want.

I shut my laptop, walk over to the bed, and glance at the small park opposite Penny’s apartment.

The late afternoon sun slants into my eyes, and I blink.

When my vision clears, I notice a man standing on the sidewalk that borders the park.

The width of his shoulders, his height, the way he holds himself—I swallow.

It’s Cade. He’s wearing jeans, with a black jacket hugging his muscular physique, and he’s staring up at me.

I push back from the window and squeeze my fingers together.

What is he doing here? Of course, he knows where I am, as he’s been sending me flowers.

Still, I hadn’t expected him to turn up right outside my window.

I stand there for a few seconds, then lean forward and peak out the window.

He’s still there, gazing up at the window.

He hasn’t moved an inch, either. His features seem to be chiseled from marble, and his entire body could have been carved from granite.

His cap shadows his features, hiding his identity somewhat, but there’s no mistaking that square jaw, those high cheekbones.

And his eyes. Oh, god, even from this distance, his mis-matched eyes glitter with that vital force I associate with him.

Strong, vibrant, alive. That’s how I see him.

And I’ve missed him. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed him until now.

I push back from the window and return to my seat in front of the computer.

If I see him, I’m going to get weak, and I can’t let that happen.

This is my life. I need to figure out a way to live it on my terms. Not my father’s terms, not my fake-fiancé’s terms, but my terms. I need…

to understand who I am, and until I do… I cannot even entertain the thought of someone else in my life.

I focus on the email I’m composing, then the phone-calls I need to make.

The project to promote Ava’s dance studio is going really well.

Thanks to my efforts, her client list has doubled in the weeks I’ve been working on her account, and that is huge.

It shows I can really make a difference with my work.

Not that I didn’t know before, but doing this on my own is so very satisfying.

I can quantify exactly what I’m getting out of what I put in, which is much more difficult when you’re part of a team on an account.

Of course, it was just as satisfying being Cade’s social media manager.

Considering he hasn’t bothered much with his social feeds, the posts I put up continue to get traction.

For someone who’s so high profile, thanks to his position as captain, not to mention the sponsorships he has, he has a very cavalier attitude when it comes to his own profile.

In a way, that’s his appeal. He cares about the money—of course, he does—but he doesn’t give a damn what people think of him.

He might be brusque and impolite, but he’s never hidden what he is.

He’s never tried to mask his personality.

Which is a positive, right? I rise to my feet and stretch.

The sound of the door unlocking reaches me. Penny walks in.

"Hey, you." I blink. "What time is it?"

"It’s eight p.m."

Whoa! I glance out the window to see it’s dark. "Didn’t notice time passing."

"Hmm…" She looks at me strangely.

"What?"

"Did you, by any chance, look out the window?"

I blink, then rush to the window, slowing down as I reach it. I flatten my body to the side then peek around the frame. "Oh, wow, he’s still there."

"You mean, he’s been there for a while?"

"I saw him when I peeked out earlier, which was a few hours ago. I thought he’d be gone by now."

"So, he’s just been standing there all this time?"

I raise a shoulder.

"What does he want?"

"I don’t know; I haven’t asked him." I throw up my hands.

“At least, it’s a quiet street. It might buy us a little time before the paps find out he’s keeping vigil outside your bedroom window,” Penny offers.

There’s a flash of lightning just then. I glance sideways to find rain pattering against the windowpanes. "Shit."

"Indeed."

The silence stretches, then I glance at her again. "Now what?"

She looks at the window, then back at me. “It’s raining.”

"I noticed." I lock my fingers together.

"You’re going to let him stay out there?"

"Thought you didn’t like him?"

"I don’t like how he treated you…but…" She tilts her head.

"But?"

"It’s raining?”

I hunch my shoulders. "It probably won’t last very long."

My stupid heart does this little pitter-patter in my chest. My guts churn.

"He’s just recovering from a knife wound." Her tone implies she’s not especially happy with me.

I stiffen. "Are you implying I should ask him in?”

"I’m not saying anything." She heads toward the kitchen. "Want a drink?"

I glance after her, then leaning forward, I slide the curtains closed.

"I’m such a sucker. Every-time I watch Before Sunrise, I still feel optimistic about finding my one true love, you know?" Penny stretches hugely. The bowl on the sofa between us tips and some of the popcorn spills to the floor. "Oops."

"I got it." I sweep the popped corn into my hand, then walk over to the waste-paper basket and deposit the rubbish. I turn, glance at the shuttered window, then turn away.

"Not going to peek and see if he’s still there?" Penny asks softly.

I shake my head.

"It’s still raining," she points out.

I bite the inside of my cheek. "He’s an athlete; he can take it."

Penny whistles. "Tough crowd, hey?"

I hunch my shoulders. "I don’t want to go out and talk to him. If I do… I … There’s no telling what I might do."

"You think if you speak to him, you’ll forgive him."

"No. Yes. I don’t know what I feel anymore."

"You still pissed with him?"

"Wouldn’t you be?"

"After how he behaved toward you and then lied to you about your brother asking him to take care of you, of course..." She hesitates.

"But? I sense there’s a but there."

She blows out a breath. "It’s really not my place to tell you what to do, Abby."

"I don’t know who else to speak with. If I message Knight, I’ll only be worrying him. Solene has too much on her plate. I wouldn’t dream of talking to my parents about this. And Zara is too close to Cade, so—"

"That leaves me, eh?"

I nod. "And Mira. But she’s been busy with her new job." Mira just started working as a virtual assistant for well-known author, so she’s been working round the clock. She checks in with me and Penny, and we’re due to meet up, but meanwhile, the only person I can really ask for advice is Penny.

"I really don’t want to bias you, and I’m not condoning what Cade did, but—" She picks up a cushion and cuddles it. "But… I think the guy’s really sorry, and he’s been trying to make amends."

"Because he sent me flowers?"

"Not terribly original, but at least, he was persistent about it."

I nod.

"And he’s kept his distance in the past, what is it, six weeks?"

I nod again.

"And now he’s standing outside the window—"

"Which is not fair, really." I begin to pace. "He knows he’s going to wear me down, just by showing up."

"And standing in the rain."

"Yeah." I drag my fingers through my hair. "The thing is, I’m not ready, Penny. I’m not. I can’t forgive him yet for everything he did.

" And maybe, part of the problem is me. Because damn, when he orders me around in that Dom voice of his, it feels so good, so right. It turns me on so fucking much to be subservient to him, but how do I know he won’t take advantage of that part of me again? I hunch my shoulders. "I’m not ready."

"Then don’t rush into anything."

I glance toward the window again, then at her. "And what do I do about the fact that he’s outside?"

"What is it you want to do?"

"Nothing."

She raises her hands. "Follow your instincts, babe. There’s no right or wrong here." She rises to her feet and yawns hugely. "I’m beat. This new job is killing me."

"Oh, my god, that’s right. I’m so sorry. How was it?" Penny just started working shifts in a restaurant. Today was her first day, actually, and I never even asked her how it went. I’ve been so preoccupied with my own troubles, I haven’t been a very good friend. "Is it what you thought it would be?"

She shrugs. "I’m only a trainee chef, and today—" She winces.

"I may have botched things up a little, which is why I left early.

" She brightens. "But tomorrow is another day, huh?

" She winks. "I’m off to bed. I have to be back at eight a.m. tomorrow.

" She blows me a kiss, then heads off in the direction of her bedroom.

I stare at the window a little longer, then switch off the light and head to bed.

I sit up in bed with my chest heaving. It’s dark in my room, but I hear a steady tapping at my window. Sweat beads my forehead, and my pulse flutters at my wrists, at my ankles, even behind my eyeballs. The hair on the back of my neck rises, and I swing my legs over the bed.

I switch on my bedside lamp, then pull on my yoga pants and socks. I pad across the floor to the window, crack the drapes, look down, and flinch. It’s still raining. The rays from the closest streetlamp cast enough light that I can make out his silhouette.

He’s in the same position, feet slightly apart, arms across his broad chest. His chin tilts up. His cap casts his eyes in shadow, and what I can see of his face glistens in the scant light. The rain seems to grow in intensity. A gust of wind blows through the trees. A window bangs somewhere.

I jump and flatten my palm against the window.

My blood begins to pound at my temples. A hot sensation pools in my chest. I should move away.

Should turn my back on him and go to bed.

I try to turn, but my feet seem attached to the floor.

A ball of emotion clogs my throat. A tickle teases my nostrils.

I sniff, then freeze when he sways. I peer through the darkness, trying to make out if he’s okay.

He sways again, and I gasp. Then, his legs seem to give out on him, and he keels over.