Blank: Alpha Billionaire Romance (10 page)

While it felt amazing to be held by him, I was surprised at this sudden surge of affection. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said with a big smile. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come. I thought you were angry with me.”

Apparently my texts regarding his insistence at picking me up for the date hadn’t been as vague as I’d intended them to be.

“I’m not angry.” I sighed. “Really. I just want to do some things on my own now, you know?”

“I guess you’re a pretty independent person,” he said with a smile as he tucked a windblown curl behind my ear.

“I guess I am.” I blushed at his words and gentle touch.

Despite the little voice in the back of my head telling me to keep my distance until I knew for sure what his intentions were, I let him lead me into the restaurant and back to a romantic, secluded booth. And I let him charm me with stories of his childhood, made all the more sweet because I had none of my own to tell him. Though based on what I did know, I doubted there were many happy ones.

“I think my favorite trip as a kid was Disney World, but then again, what kid didn’t want to go to Disney World?” he said with a laugh. “I remember riding Space Mountain with my dad. Here he was, this big aggressive business man, and he screamed his head off the entire time.”

“What did your mom think of that?” I asked, grinning in response to his contagious smile.

“She wasn’t much for amusement parks.” His face sobered a bit. “Mom was more of the Botanical Garden kind of person.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Somehow, I don’t see you being much for flowers.”

“I’ll have you know that I aced botany in college.”

“You took botany?”

He shrugged. “I needed an elective. What about you?” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he realized what he’d said. “Wow. Open mouth, insert foot.”

I laughed. “Don’t feel bad. Do you have any idea how weird it is to not know the answers to those sorts of questions? The only reason I even know what classes I was in four months ago is because I’ve been trying to make up the work I missed.”

“Okay,” he said as he reached across the table to take my hand. “Then tell me about those. Just because the memories aren’t old doesn’t mean they aren’t important.”

I curled my fingers into his. “I’ve already told you pretty much everything I’ve been doing.”

He smiled. “Then tell me again. I don’t care how little there is to know about you, I want to know it all.”

Now how the hell was I supposed to be cautious when he said things like that?

After dinner, we decided to go for a stroll around the block before heading home. Despite the snow we’d seen earlier in the week, the air was balmy with the promise of spring. Perfect for a romantic evening stroll. I was glad I’d decided to wear flat shoes, even if they didn’t help our insane height difference. I felt like a little kid walking beside him. Well, except for how badly I wanted to grab him and do very adult things to him.

After a couple minutes of walking in pleasant silence, we stopped at a busy corner, waiting for the light to change. Across the street, a petite woman with a strawberry blonde bob held the hand of a little boy, maybe three or four years old. The woman’s mouth was going a mile a minute, and while I couldn’t hear her over the rush of the traffic, I could tell from her expression that she was angry.

Kris said something, but I couldn’t hear him. My vision tunneled, and all I could see was this raging woman and her child. The light flashed green, and Kris took my arm to lead me through the crosswalk. I went with him, but nearly froze as we approached the woman and child near the center of the street.

Suddenly, the kid slid and fell to his knees. The woman glared down, as if the kid had done it on purpose.

“Damn it!” she screamed, jerking him roughly by his arm. “Watch where the hell you’re going! I tell you to look where you walk and you fall anyway. So fucking stupid!”

She pulled him so hard I thought his arm would dislocate. His eyes welled with tears and I could see the fear on his face.

All of this happened in the span of a few seconds, but it felt like it was slow motion. I was still walking, still being led by Kris to the opposite corner, but I wasn’t really there. I was somewhere far away. Different place, different time.

A frizzy-haired woman scowled, hovering over me. Dark circles sat like bruises underneath her eyes and the stink of something rotten wafted from her dingy pink bathrobe. I sat in a corner, huddled up with my arms around my knees.

“Dammit, Preslee!” she roared in my face.

I could smell the sour stench of alcohol and cigarettes on her breath, mixing with the unmistakable reek of vomit.

“You can’t even pour milk on your cereal without getting it all over the goddamned kitchen! Clean it up!”

She grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. I cried out as pain shot up my arm.

“Stop being such a damn crybaby or I’ll give you something to cry about,” she growled as she shoved me in the direction of the kitchen table. Milk dripped into a puddle on the floor. “Clean it up!” she screamed again. “I’m not your damn maid!”

I wipe at the milk with paper towels and struggled to keep from crying. If I cried, it would only make her angrier.

“Preslee!” I heard from far away. “Preslee, come on, wake up.”

I blinked up at the face staring down at me. It wasn’t her. It was Kris. And he was holding me up, the strength of his body the only thing keeping me from crumbling to the sidewalk.

“I think…” I whispered, “I think I just remembered something. Something from when I was little.” I burst into tears.

We stood there on the busy corner while I cried against his coat. I’d been so scared of her. Of my own mother. And I knew it was her. She was older now, but I could still match the woman who’d turned me away with the one from my memory.

How many times had something like that happened? What had I done to make her hate me the way she did? A snippet of the dream I’d had right before I woke from the coma replayed in my mind. My mother shrieking about how “he” had left because I was a bad girl. I knew now she must have meant my father. She blamed me for him leaving, and I had no way of knowing if that was true.

I felt like my heart was breaking. For that little girl in the corner. For me.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything’s okay,” Kris murmured as he stroked my hair.

Eventually, my tears slowed and I could breathe without gasping.

“Pres,” he finally said, “I only live a block or two from here. Do you want to go and relax there for a while? Get yourself cleaned up? Catch your breath?”

I nodded against his chest and he wrapped a protective arm around me. I recalled Kris telling me that I didn’t have to worry about anything. As he led me through the crowded, icy street, I realized that I was finally beginning to believe him.

Chapter 12

Kris

Preslee was curled up on the sofa, her arms around her knees. It had been almost two hours since we’d come up to my apartment, and finally she was calm.

I’d never seen anything like it. One minute everything was fine. We were walking, talking, enjoying each other’s company, and the next, it was like she’d totally checked out. Her eyes were glassy, her expression blank.

For one horrible split second, I thought she might be having some sort of relapse or a seizure. I called her name but there was no reaction. When she came to, I was flooded with relief. When she looked at me with those sad eyes and her face crumpled, I knew she’d experienced something terrible.

When we got to my place, she collapsed onto the couch and held her face in her hands. She said nothing. She didn’t cry again. I sat next to her and rubbed her back for a while. I didn’t ask any questions or try to prod her into speaking. I knew something was happening that she wasn’t ready to share.

Suddenly, she took a deep breath and sat up straight. “Can I use your bathroom to freshen up?” While I waited, I built a fire as promised. The day had been warm and sunny, but another storm was coming in and the night air had turned damp and chilly.

I fixed myself a drink, and just as I was about to call out to ask if she was doing okay, she came back to the living room. All the color had drained from her face, and I wondered if this was how she’d looked when she was in a coma.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

She smiled wanly, and it didn’t reach her eyes. “You know I’m only nineteen. I would think you of all people would understand how important it is to not do anything illegal.”

And there it was, a hint of a twinkle. At least she had her sense of humor in place.

“True,” I said. “But I won’t tell if you don’t.”

A frown crossed her pretty face, and I could practically read her thoughts. I tried not to be insulted.

“I’m not trying to get you drunk, Pres. I just thought that maybe a little wine would help you relax. That’s all. Half a glass.”

She considered, then nodded. I was true to my word, only pouring a half glass of a sweet rose I thought she might enjoy. From the look on her face after the first sip, I knew I’d been right. It was a surprisingly satisfying feeling to be able to read her so well.

She leaned back on the sofa and, in a soft but emotionless voice, told me how the woman on the street had triggered memories from her childhood that bordered on abuse. Anger rose inside me, followed by a sort of fierce protectiveness that I’d never felt before.

“She really hates me,” Preslee mumbled, draining her glass until it was empty. I took it from her and placed it on a table beside me.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. I couldn’t imagine having gone through a childhood where that seemed like the norm.

My parents hadn’t been perfect, but I’d never doubted their love for me, especially not my mother. The doctors had told them they’d never have children of their own, so when I’d shown up, I’d been welcomed.

“Will it always hurt this way? The remembering?” she asked.

“I hope not,” I said even though I knew she didn’t expect an answer. “You and Ava made plenty of good memories together. Those memories will be happy ones.”

She smiled a little. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just funny. I mean, I’ve been trying so hard the last two weeks to remember something, anything, and the first thing I really remember has to be about her. It’s enough to make me not want my memory back at all.”

I moved closer to her. “All of the stuff you’ve been through has made you a stronger person. I like the person you’ve become. Even without those memories, you’re Preslee because of them.” I laughed at myself. “Does that make any sense?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. Even though I can’t remember, all of those experiences made an impression on my character or something. Right?”

“Right. Without them, you wouldn’t be who you are.”

She slowly leaned toward me until her head was on my shoulder. I put an arm around her and she nestled into me. I knew she needed comfort and I was happy to give it. We sat for a long time, watching the fire together in silence.

“Your apartment is beautiful. I don’t think I mentioned how much I liked it when I was here before,” she murmured after a while.

“Thanks,” I said. “We were a bit distracted,” I joked, “It’s nice, but it’s simple. I don’t require much.”

She looked up at me, and I saw more than gratitude in her eyes. I told myself not to get lost in that look again, that it wasn’t a good idea, but before I could stop myself, I leaned down and claimed her mouth.

I moaned at the taste of her as my tongue swept into her mouth. It was heady, the wine mixing in. I suddenly realized what I hadn’t thought of before. She didn’t remember her past. Didn’t remember any men she might have been with. I didn’t think she’d been a virgin the other night, but whatever experiences she’d had before were gone.

I was the only man whose kiss she knew. The only man whose body she knew. Her body might not have been a virgin, but her mind was. I’d been her first kiss, her first lover.

Something in my chest squeezed as I understood the responsibility of what that meant. I slid my hand up her spine to cradle the back of her head, and scraped my teeth across her bottom lip. I would make sure she didn’t have a single memory of a bad kiss.

She made a sound in the back of her throat that went straight to my cock. And then her hand was on my thigh and I knew I had to be the responsible one.

“No, wait,” I said as I pulled away and took a deep breath. “Pres, you’re really vulnerable right now. I don’t want to take advantage of the way you’re feeling. I don’t want you to regret this.”

She smiled, heat in her eyes. “Thank you for saying that. But I know what I’m doing. I’ve wanted this all week.”

She leaned back into me and nipped at my bottom lip.

Fuck.

I grabbed her slim waist and lifted her until she straddled my lap, her crotch pressing deliciously against my erection. As my tongue explored her mouth, dueling with hers, I ran my hands up under her sweater enjoying the feel of her soft skin under my palms. I felt myself growing, then straining against the zipper of my pants. My hands moved down her back to cup her ass, fingers kneading the firm flesh.