BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part 2 Page 2

  “Perhaps,” he smirked.

  Chapter 3

  I walked through my apartment’s door, glad to be home, but immediately my head fell in sadness. Immediately, I was crestfallen.

  Polly.

  She sat at her usual position on the couch with her back facing the door. Usually she met me, but she hadn’t for weeks now. She was still angry.

  To be honest, I didn’t give it any sort of merit before. I didn’t think it would last. I thought it would be something that would sort of fix itself, but it didn’t.

  The night that Derek told me he was dying of pancreatic cancer was a whirlwind sort of day, indeed. And despite my efforts, I wasn’t allowed off early for Polly’s audition, even though I knew how much it meant to her.

  I couldn’t call her. I couldn’t text her. I had to work that night. Derek had demanded my entire day and evening. If he saw me texting or calling to cancel plans, he would have had my head on a stake. And I might have considered risking it—until he dropped the cancer bomb on me.

  How was I supposed to react to that?

  In all honesty, I completely forgot about Polly when he told me he had cancer.

  And I couldn’t tell her what happened. I couldn’t tell anyone. It wasn’t my news to tell, and honestly, as self-involved as Polly was sometimes, I wasn’t sure that she would have understood anyways.

  I felt horrible about missing her audition, but I felt even worse that I couldn’t make her understand why. His cancer had nothing to do with why I missed her audition. It had to do with me forgetting that I had missed her audition, but not actually missing it. That was work’s fault. His illness played no part—except maybe the fact that he was likely acting out in aggression due to his depression from being sick. And in that aggression, he wouldn’t let me off early. But overall, his illness had no merit.

  But I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand why she didn’t get it.

  We finally had money because of my job.

  Sometimes—due to my responsibilities—I would have to miss things. It was all part of it. Our lifestyle—I thought—was worth missing things. We could finally afford food and rent. I felt that was a big deal. But maybe I was wrong.

  I groaned. I was feeling sorry for myself, which was something that I hated. In fact, it was probably my biggest pet peeve… and in that moment I couldn’t even stand myself.

  As I closed the door behind me, I remembered that night all over again. Unlike this time, she had greeted me at the door, completely red in the face. So red, in fact, that I almost mistook her for a tomato.

  I sighed, solemnly, knowing that I had hurt her but also genuinely displeased that I had missed her big audition. My mind was also burdened with Derek Sholts’ secret, and the horrible empty feeling in the pit of my stomach that came along with the horrible news.

  In other words, I was a mess.

  But I looked at her, pushing my negativity aside for the moment, and sighed. “I’m so sorry, Polly,” I said, hoping that she would understand.

  “How could you not show up!?” she screamed, tears finally falling.

  I could tell that she wasn’t just angry. She was also highly disappointed and hurt.

  “I couldn’t get off work.”

  “That’s always going to be your excuse now! Work this, work that! You should have just walked out!” She was livid, and completely rattled. I watched as she stormed across the room, tears bursting from her eyes. I just remained quiet as I put my purse down on the side table beside the door.

  I could tell that she wasn’t finished.

  I could tell that she wanted to rant.

  But I was fine with that, because honestly, I had nothing to say that would make her feel better.

  “Well, having a job like this means that some things are sacrificed!” I retorted.

  “I didn’t get the part because of you!” she yelled, pivoting on her heel to face me.

  “How do you know!?” I snapped, throwing my arms in the air. I felt defeated, and I knew that I shouldn’t argue with her during her overly emotional state, but I knew she had no idea what the outcome was of her audition.

  “I just know!” she spat. She turned on her heel again, away from me and began walking towards the couch.

  “You’re impossible,” I blurted.

  I really knew better than to say anything at all, but I felt some sort of stupid need to defend myself. But rather than reply, she sat on the couch and aimed her gaze towards the TV. I sighed as well, before leaving her be and retiring to my room. I knew that she’d need time to cool off.

  But it had been weeks. And she still wasn’t calmed down. Hell, she hadn’t even said a word to me.

  I sighed, as I watched her sit in the same spot she sat at the night we stopped speaking to each other, and I hoped that it would all be over soon enough. But after the first week of trying to get her to talk to me, I finally gave up and just figured that when she was ready she would come to me.

  Even if she didn’t come to me about the problem itself, I just sort of thought that maybe she would just start talking to me in general. Maybe if given enough time, she would just be willing to talk, like she always did. Nonstop.

  In fact, so nonstop that if she wasn’t so angry at me I would almost welcome the silence.

  Mama was even really concerned about it. She had spoken to both of us over the phone, she said, and both of us were upset about it. I knew she likely told Polly the same. But still, neither of us spoke.

  It made me feel like we were nothing more than teenage girls playing house.

  I felt like we weren’t even mature enough to settle an argument like adults, and I wondered if I should have even moved to the city in the first place.

  “Polly,” I said, without realizing that I was actually speaking until it was too late. “Let’s stop this nonsense; we’re adults.”

  I saw her shoulders tense, and I knew that she didn’t like the fact that I had spoken.

  “I’m sorry I missed your audition…” I trailed.

  “Just stop, Zoe,” she said and sighed. “Not now…”

  Truthfully, she was probably still waiting to hear back from her agent about whether or not she had gotten the part. But after hearing her spiel, something told me that her audition may not have gone the greatest. I wasn’t sure though. Sometimes Polly was overly hard on herself. However, I knew if she hadn’t heard back that it was highly unlikely that she would say anything at all to me.

  “Soon?” I asked, probably sounding a little more pathetic than I meant to.

  “Soon.” She sighed, and I could tell that she missed me, too.

  Still, though, it all seemed ridiculous. It was one audition, out of dozens…and I had never missed a single other one.

  And after this, I was sure of one thing… I would never miss another one again.

  Chapter 4

  At work the next day, it seemed that even more people had been fired. As I looked through the offices and cubicles on my journey towards his office, I noticed that a lot of them were empty—and not just empty, but cleaned out. He really must have been on a roll.

  I growled in disgust. I knew he was pissed about his situation, but taking it out on innocent people was not the way to go about things. I couldn’t understand why he felt the need to be a tyrannical asshole because he was upset.

  We didn’t speak the entire day. But hell, I don’t think even he could fault me for it. I saw person after person enter and exit his office in tears—their hopes, dreams, and careers shattered as they did.

  He was firing what seemed to be the entire company, and I had no idea if he was making necessary changes, if he was going bankrupt, or if he was throwing a childish tantrum, but my money was on the childish tantrum.

  So of course I didn't want to see him.

  Hell, I couldn’t even believe that I had agreed to go on a date with him that evening. Not only that, though, but I couldn’t believe what the date actually was.

  He said once th
at he’d take me on a yacht. I wasn’t impressed then, but the thought of being on a boat that fancy made me a little excited.

  And I was right to be excited for it.

  Because when I saw it, I stood there, in shock, mouth agape, looking at the nicest boat I had ever seen.

  A perfect boat for a perfect man…at least that’s what I supposed it was meant to be.

  It was large and gorgeous with a lattice-type exterior. It was so distinctive looking that if I ever saw it again—even in the open sea, thousands of miles away—I would still know it belonged to Derek Sholts.

  The lattice design was gorgeous on the open water at night. The glowing warmth of lights shined out of the mosaic-looking openings, and I shivered, realizing that I could be on the boat, experiencing such warmth rather than merely looking at it from afar.

  As I stood on the dock, I could see streaming lights on the rooftop of the yacht, and I knew that he was likely awaiting me at the top.

  As my eyes focused on the surroundings closer to me, I glanced over to the end of the dock and saw Fredrick waiting, likely for me. His arms were tucked behind his back, and he smiled up at me cheerfully. He nodded to me and gestured for me to come closer with his chin. I smiled in response and walked towards the kind-looking elder man.

  “Hey, Fredrick,” I said, and immediately he smiled again, just before removing one of his arms from behind his back. He looped it for my arm to rest inside, as he led me towards the boat.

  I had to admit, I felt like a princess, being escorted to a boat of such an incredible caliber.

  He led me onto the large vessel, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Immediately upon entrance, I found myself peeking into the mosaic-type windows that were strewn across the entire boat and caught glimpses of extravagant furniture, fish tanks, the largest flat screen that I had ever seen, and a multitude of beautiful paintings.

  It really was the life of luxury.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  He led me not inside the large cabin, but around the edge of the boat to a staircase, and I smirked, knowing that I had been correct about where Derek was awaiting me. And that smirk grew into a widespread smile as soon as I reached the top step and glanced around.

  There were candles, large round lights, and stream lights twinkling in the night. And I couldn’t believe it, but where we were, out on the water, with very little lighting in close proximity, I could actually get a glance or two of some stars twinkling overhead. It was something I missed since living in the city, and I smiled, knowing that this was likely the best I was going to get while there.

  I wished I had known about it before.

  “Welcome.” He smirked, extending his hand out to mine just before gesturing to what he had actually intended the evening to revolve around.

  It was the dinner. I gasped. It spread out across the entire yacht balcony table. It looked like it was duck and rice with various different roasted vegetables, all delicately and intricately placed in gorgeous positions on plates.

  “I made it myself.” He was grinning, ear-to-ear, and I couldn’t help but be completely and immeasurably impressed.

  “You know how to cook?!” I blurted, without meaning to sound condescending.

  “Believe it or not, I can actually do things that normal people do,” he said and laughed.

  “I know, but I didn’t know that you personally cooked, or could cook.”

  “I can. My mom taught me.” He grinned and pulled a chair out for me, gesturing for me to have a seat. I smiled but continued to stand rather than immediately obliging his invitation. Truthfully, I was still completely dumbfounded at the prospect that he could cook something so immaculate and gorgeous.

  It even smelled incredible.

  My refined side wanted to sit down, wait for a moment, and then begin the meal slowly, with intent on tasting every morsel. However, my southern side wanted to get the show on the road and dig right in. And sadly for me, both sides were equally fighting for the title of “right” as my stomach began to growl from the mere aroma of the food wafting in the night air.

  But then my brain stopped my stomach personalities from dueling by remembering the fact that he had just mentioned his mother.

  “So does your mom know about this?” I asked, concern likely all over my tone.

  “Dinner?” he laughed. “She knows I eat…”

  “No…” I sighed. “I meant about you… and being sick…”

  “I knew what you meant. I just didn’t really want to talk about my cancer tonight.”

  “Does she know?” I asked, sternly.

  “No.”

  “You have to tell her!” My eyes widened in concern. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t told his mama. I would have told mine the moment I found out. She was my rock. I told her everything.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?!” I couldn't fathom it. I felt my heart begin to beat at an extraordinary rate, and I wondered if it might leap out of my chest. How could he expect to face something like that alone?

  “I can’t crush her, Zoe,” he replied, his voice weak, sadness just behind his eyes. “I can’t tell her that I’m going to die. I don’t want to die,” he said again, and it was then that I was reminded that Derek Sholts had mortality—just like the rest of us. He was vulnerable in his words, and I could tell that if even it was just for a moment, he had lowered his walls. His guard was down.

  “You won’t…” I found myself saying, as I grabbed his hand tenderly. I didn’t know if I was lying, but it didn’t matter. He needed to hear it, and if I had to be the one to say it, then dang it, I was going to be the one to say it.

  The feel of his flesh against mine was electric. His smooth skin soothed me, although I was trying to soothe him. And I wasn’t sure how exactly, but I felt at peace when I grabbed ahold of his surprisingly warm hands.

  He looked at me. The brim of both of his eyes were puffy from the tears, and I could do nothing but look forward in discontent. The date, itself, wasn’t bad. Not even a little bit.

  It was actually sort of pleasant.

  “Would you kiss me?” he asked, taking me aback.

  I wasn’t sure how to begin to answer a question like that. On one hand, I knew that I really didn’t want to kiss the likes of Derek Sholts, but on the other, if it had been anyone else that had given me such an immaculate date, I would have no qualms with such an action.

  So was I being biased?

  Was I being wrong?

  Did I really know Derek Sholts? After all, I never once thought he could give someone—let alone me—such a wonderful date. I didn’t think he had it in him to put as much thought or effort into anything, let alone while he was sick.

  He moved his head and shifted his body so that he was properly facing me, and I noticed a slight blush had risen to his cheeks.

  I couldn’t help it, and God help me, but I blushed too…

  And gulped in anticipation.

  I knew that he was thinking, what he was going to try…

  It wasn’t only in his nature, but in all honesty, he sort of deserved it after such an incredible experience. And I’m sure he had picked up on my overwhelming want to give him what he desired…

  No matter how much I pretended, no matter how much I tried to shake it, I knew that I wouldn’t have been able to deny the fact that I had wanted to kiss him the entire night.

  With a grave expression on his face, he placed his hands on either side of my cheeks and peered—with hazed-over eyes—into the depths of my own, so far that it seemed like he was gazing into my soul.

  His pale, suddenly ill-looking face leaned closer to me, and all I could do was watch, as his puffy, red eyes closed in what was very likely anticipation. I swallowed hard and held my breath as his lips puckered. It felt like razor blades were going down my throat. The intensity of the moment was almost too much—the anticipation, the fear…

  I felt my mind reeling, screaming out to me.

  But then everything went
quiet. His lips met mine, capturing them.

  I couldn’t explain it, but it was almost like something that I had learned in chemistry class back in high school. Bubbles formed and flowed up from the pit of my stomach, my entire body seemingly reacting to the man.

  His touch, his taste, the feel of him so incredibly close—it was all almost too much to handle.

  My heart was racing.

  Our tongues danced, and I couldn’t explain why I hadn’t broken it, but I couldn’t. I couldn't bring myself to do it.

  And I had no idea if it was the fact that it was Derek Sholts as to why I didn’t stop the kiss. Or if it was the simple fact that I didn’t hate him as much as I thought I had.

  I stood stiffly, not really sure what to do, as I continued to reel from the kiss. Truthfully, I was frozen by it. With my arms at my side, I shivered, as he pulled away and glanced down at me.

  His eyes were beautiful and kind in that moment. They were lighter than I had ever seen them before, but they were also heavy with burden. I could do nothing at all but gaze into them—let alone get my pitifully influenced mind back to reality, back to the fact that I was kissing my boss.

  My boss.

  I was kissing my boss.

  I had to stop.

  But before I could do anything, his arms wrapped around me in an embrace far beyond any other embrace. There was something more in it, something more than just a hug—or even any sort of sexual advance. It was almost as if Derek was admitting to something, as if he was leaning on me and admitting that he needed me.

  His grasp was sure and tight, and I felt the beat of his heart, fast and hard, against my breasts. I felt a sense of liberation in it. I felt a sense of freedom. It was strange, really, that I felt that though.

  Because that was the moment that I knew that Derek Sholts needed me.

  And to be needed by someone so sick was a lot of pressure.

  Yet, I felt as light as a bird when he embraced me.

  Chapter 5

  I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of helplessness as I watched him pull away. I wasn’t sure if I missed the hug, if I was truly captivated by the embrace and wished it never to end, or if I felt helpless in knowing what was about to happen next.