The Billionaire’s Lust (His Submissive #7)(5)
Author: Ava Claire

“Then why do I keep screwing it up?”

“Because you’re sabotaging yourself.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?”

“It’s cheerleading, yearbook staff and the musical all over again.”

I laughed at that. “Everything you just named was situations where I was shy or thought I had zero chance and would make a complete fool of myself.”

“Why?” she asked plainly. “You knew the routines for cheerleading tryouts. I watched you perform them all in the backyard. Your pictures from family vacations were good enough to go in a brochure. And don’t even get me started on your singing voice.” She paused, like she was listening to me belt out a tune even though I was just glaring at her. “Every single time, you didn’t think you were good enough so you made sure that they fell through.”

It wasn’t true. On the day of cheerleading tryouts I got violently sick. There was no way I could have performed and risked vomiting all over the gym floor. And just because I happened to snap a decent picture of the beach of a Ferris wheel in motion didn’t mean I was good enough to be on yearbook staff. And as far as the musical, it was one thing to give a speech as the class president and a whole other thing to sing and go up against theatre majors.

My stomach clenched.

Excuses. Every one of them.

Was it true? Did I keep sabotaging my relationship with Jacob because I didn’t think I deserved him? Because I was afraid he’d wake up and realize he made a terrible mistake in trusting me with his heart?

“You deserve to be happy, Leila,” Mom said firmly. “If Jacob makes you happy, stop screwing around and be with him. It’s as simple as that.”

I wanted to believe her, that it would be such an easy fix as just cutting it out. But there was a part of me that worried too much had happened and too much trust was lost.

****

I shook off what was left of sleep, stretching my arms perpendicular to my body before opening them, expecting my fingertips to graze the muscular wall of Jacob’s back. Without even glancing at my cell I knew it was a little past seven am. Years of 8am classes had my internal alarm dinging, even on a Saturday.

The casual brush wouldn’t stir Jacob, which was fine by me. I was just looking forward to rolling over for some cuddling and gather strength for what I knew I had to do. I couldn’t handle one more day of carrying this burden. I needed to tell him what I read.

But my fingertips didn’t collide with his sleeping form. I lifted my head and saw that his side of the bed was neat, his pillow and section of the sheets untouched.

Last night I’d gone to bed with another text that he had a long night at work, but this…this was different.

Jacob didn’t come home last night.

I threw the covers to the side and kicked off the bed, moving like a woman possessed. I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and stomped into my flats beside the closet. I knew I was unshowered and looked slightly unhinged, but I was going to Whitmore and Creighton.

But what if he isn’t at his office? I thought, hurt knotting my stomach. What if he stayed at a hotel because he couldn’t stand being around me for one more second?

I paused outside the bedroom, the smell of coffee wafting up to put my freak out on hold. He must have gotten up before me.

I eased down the staircase, drawing steadying breaths. This was just further proof that it was time to be honest. I was literally losing my mind.

The door to the balcony was open and I launched myself forward. Jacob was reclined in one of the wicker armchairs, looking incredible even in a plain white t-shirt and black lounge pants. His dark hair was slightly mussed, the wavy locks creating an ebony halo around his bowed head. He looked so peaceful. So serene. I was about to take him from that, ripping him into the dark pit of my latest betrayal.

"Morning," I said, my voice still shaking, hoarse from hours of non-use.

Yeah right, Lay. Non-use my ass–I was shaking from white hot terror that I’d ruined everything. If all the drama I’d put him through up to now wasn’t enough to destroy us, hearing that I’d officially become one of those psycho girlfriends that snooped would be.

He glanced up, his cerulean eyes bright and warm. Warmer than I’d seen them in a while. "Good morning." He nodded at the small, iron wrought table beside him where a French press and a second mug sat. "Coffee’s fresh."

"Thanks." I gripped the handle tight and poured the dark roast into my mug then added a bit of cream and brought it to my lips. It was liquid fire, scorching my dry mouth and throat.

I sunk into the chair beside him, trying to shut my head off and focus on my heart and what needed to be said. It was a losing battle because the possibility that I could lose him consumed me. The notion that this could be it, that we’d reached the point of no return was like a knife to the chest. But it didn’t compare to this purgatory, the agony of the words he wrote branded on my soul.

I’m not sure about a lot of things. I’m not sure where Leila and I stand…

"It’s beautiful out here today, huh?" His deep voice pulled me from my pity party.

It was true. The sky was a soft hue that was romantic. Dreamy. A world away from the storm that was coming.

"It is," I answered, chewing on my bottom lip.

"Can I tell you something?"

I blurted out yes, snatching up the reprieve, no matter how brief.

"It’s going to sound cheesy," he warned, stealing a look at me.

I couldn’t help but smile at that. Jacob Whitmore, cheesy? That was damn near impossible. But he was clearly waiting for me to give him the okay, so I tipped my head for him to go on.

"Mornings are my favorite time of the day," he confessed. "Where the sky is still swirling with bits of purple, shedding the last pieces of yesterday. I feel like anything is possible. A fresh start. A chance to get it right or wrong. Anything could happen."

My lips spread, but nothing came out. A fresh start. It was like he’d read my thoughts and knew just what to say and show me that this was my moment. All I had to do was take it with both hands and let go.

He faced me full-on, his expression the very definition of dread. "Too much?"

The side of my mouth crept upward. "No, Jacob. It was beautiful."

He held my gaze for a few seconds more then turned back to his city. "I’m sorry I’ve been at the office so much lately. I’ve been up to my damn ears signing off on projects, expanding our client base…" He trailed off with a low chuckle. "What am I saying? You know better than anyone how crazy things are."