The Billionaire’s Game ~ Kade (Billionaire’s Obsession #4)(2)
Author: J.S. Scott

Trying to slam his mind shut on the unpleasant and painful memories of his accident, he focused on the belongings he’d dumped on the bed: a few articles of worn clothing, a hairbrush, a toothbrush that had definitely seen better days, a large pad of paper and some well-used charcoal blocks and pencils. Pushing the other articles aside, he opened the pad of paper, mesmerized as he slowly flipped the pages, studying each drawing before going to the next.

Each image nearly leaped from the page, so real that it almost seemed as if they could jump from the paper and come to life in front of him. The drawings were fanciful—many of them looking like mythological creatures or animals—in the first part of the collection.

She’s an artist. A f**king amazing artist.

“Damn,” he whispered in an awed voice as he skipped some blank pages and came to another section, revealing her portraits. He didn’t recognize any of the individuals she had drawn. Obviously, they were ordinary people going about their daily activities, but he could feel every emotion on a drawing of an elderly woman’s face, a woman who looked like she was sitting on a bench at a bus stop, and he could almost share the joy of a group of children playing on a playground. Flipping through the rest of the pictures of people, he was dumbstruck by Asha’s talent. He was no artist, but the drawings could touch even his emotions, and he wasn’t a particularly emotional type of guy.

Kade felt his mouth go dry, and his gut lurched as he revealed the last picture, a man and a woman poised to engage in a passionate embrace. The male’s face was shaded, his head turned to the side, but the woman’s desire was so potently drawn that he could feel her naked longing, her desperation as she waited for the man she was embracing to kiss her. Long, silky hair cascaded down her back, her head tilted for his kiss, her face revealing unguarded need.

The words scrolled beneath the drawing hit Kade with a visceral reaction:

Someone! Someday! Somewhere!

Damned if Kade didn’t want to be the mystery man in shadow, the guy to kiss the woman breathless, provide the passion he could sense she desperately wanted. He knew exactly how she felt; he’d felt the same way. In fact, he still felt like that every time he saw his little sister Mia and her husband Max together, or his friends, Sam and Maddie, and Simon and Kara. All of them had found their mates, the person who made them feel whole, and the happiness that surrounded those couples was almost ball-bustingly painful for a man like him who felt so alone, so solitary. He was damned happy for all of them—every one of them deserved to be happy—but it wasn’t easy not to feel lost, not to mention a little odd, when he was around them. He just didn’t roll that way, and he kept his emotions in check. He’d been conditioned to keep a grip on himself since he was a child, and he’d learned to keep a handle on himself throughout his football career. It was too vital for him to stay cool and detached. Letting his emotions rule him would have meant mistakes, and he’d rarely made errors when he was on a football field. Besides, a guy coming from a father as crazy as his had to have control. He and his siblings had all tried to never do anything that could be misconstrued as the least bit emotional or out of the ordinary. It was their way of trying to separate themselves from their sire.

Kade sighed heavily and continued to stare at the picture, wondering what it was like to feel that type of passion. Yeah. Sure. He liked sex. What guy didn’t? But the desire was short-lived and easily resolved. Granted, he hadn’t had to resolve that problem for two years. There was something about nearly losing a leg and two years of grueling rehabilitation that pushed that particular desire onto the back burner.

The woman’s not real. It’s just a picture.

Kade closed the drawing pad with more force than necessary, disgusted with himself. He’d never been a romantic sort of guy. He was a jock. He’d been with Amy since college, and she’d hated open displays of affection. The only things she’d ever really liked were the expensive gifts he’d lavished on her and the extravagant parties he was forced to attend because of his celebrity status and endorsements. And now that he was lame, he wasn’t the type of guy to ever have a woman look at him like he was the only man in the world for her, wealthy or not. Not that any woman ever had looked at him that way, even before he’d f**ked up his leg. He was, after all, one of those crazy Harrisons with the old man who had offed his own wife. Although a woman might appreciate his monetary assets, he was fairly certain no woman would covet him. He was damaged goods, unable to ever play football again—the one thing that had made him feel valuable. He might have money, but that was about all he had to give anymore. Honestly, maybe it had always been that way for him; maybe he just wasn’t capable of having a woman who felt that way about him. He wasn’t exactly any woman’s ideal of a knight in shining armor and he was pretty doubtful that he was entitled to own that kind of love. He’d had a batshit crazy old man who beat up his kids and his wife often, and his father had eventually killed Kade’s mother, and then himself. Was there ever a happily ever after for a f**ked-up and dysfunctional family like his? Mostly, all he, Travis, and Mia had concentrated on was survival.

Mia found her happily ever after with Max. She’s happy now.

Kade released a heavy breath and stuffed Asha’s meager belongings back into her bag. His younger sister, Mia, was happy. But her road to bliss had been pretty damn rocky. His sibling deserved every bit of happiness she now had with her husband, Max. God knew she’d suffered dearly for it.

Kade wished his older twin, Travis, could find some peace, but Kade knew that he and Travis shared the same darkness, a dimness of their souls that would probably always keep them isolated and alone. Travis wore his blackness like a mantle; Kade tried to hide his own. But it was still there, the yawning, dark emptiness that never went away; his accident had only made it worse, blacker and emptier than it had ever been before. His football career had kept him busy, given him a purpose. Without that, there was nothing that stood between him and the shadowy memories of his past.

I’m different. I’m just not cut out for a relationship any deeper than what I had with Amy.

He’d always known his relationship with Amy had been superficial, but it had always suited both of them. What the hell did he know about love? He was fairly certain he wasn’t even capable of really loving a woman. Since his break-up with Amy, he’d been alone. Strangely, he didn’t feel much different than when he was in the relationship. Her cruel words had hurt, but had he really expected anything different? He’d broken all the unspoken rules of their relationship when he’d had his accident, and his recovery had taken close to two years. Had he really expected her to stick it out with him, to stay by his side when everything had changed? Amy was a beautiful supermodel, and she hadn’t signed on to take care of a critically ill man and then two years of rehabilitation. She’d wanted the parties, the expensive presents, the recognition of being the girlfriend of a famous quarterback, a man who didn’t walk with a limp and count his blessings every damn day that he actually still had his right leg. Not surprisingly, she’d taken up with another rising star quarterback soon after his accident—ironically, one he’d introduced her to at a party—and never looked back.