Start Again Series: A Billionaire Romance Box Set

by J. Saman

  Katie’s reticent the entire walk back, completely lost in her thoughts. When we get to her door, she turns and looks at me, and the despair I see cuts me to the quick.

  I want to reach out and hug her. I want to hold her in my arms and take away every ounce of pain I see leaching from her gorgeous eyes. But I can’t do any of that with her, so I just stand here like a chump instead.

  “I’m sorry about how I acted at dinner,” she laughs nervously. “I swear I’ll be better company tomorrow.”

  “You were perfect.” She’s staring at the carpet. “Do you want me to stay with you?” I offer, not really knowing what else to do at this point.

  Her eyes fly up to mine, and a small smile touches her lips, which I take as a personal victory.

  “No. I’m just going to go sleep this off. Thank you, though. That’s…” she looks over toward the wall like she’s searching for the right words before turning her attention back to me, “really great of you. Go have fun. I’m fine. Good night, Ryan. It’s been an interesting first day with you.”

  And with that, she walks into her room and shuts the door, leaving me feeling a little lost and a lot out of sorts. Wanting to comfort the girl who will never want you back is proving harder than I thought.

  5

  Kate

  * * *

  Ryan didn’t mention my mini mental-freak-out. I had woken up the next morning early as hell, hit the gym, ate breakfast in the concierge lounge and was done before eight. But when I got back to my room, I saw a text from Ryan asking if I was up for breakfast. I was surprised that he was awake early since I assumed he had stayed out late drinking with his friend Tommy, who was nice enough, I guess.

  Ryan ate without me since I already had, and then we mutually agreed to move on from DC. We decide to haul it down to Nags Head, North Carolina, which is freaking beautiful.

  The sand dunes and the waves are so captivating that we sit on the beach together for a few hours just staring out at the Atlantic. We end up only staying one night and don’t do much with it other than dinner and sleep, mostly because I told Ryan I really want to go to Charleston, which is a long drive.

  He was fine with that. Ryan seems to be fine with everything.

  I like that about him.

  Ryan is driving, and we’re listening to Cold War Kids—a band I really enjoy, but haven’t heard all that much.

  “What’s your favorite band, Ryan?” I ask, needing something to talk about since we’ve got a seven-hour drive ahead of us.

  “Hmmm.”

  He looks out his window briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. He looks so giant driving my little car, though I imagine he’d look big driving almost anything. I shift in my seat so I’m facing him, drawing my knees up and tucking them under me.

  “Honestly, I don’t know if I have a favorite,” he emphasizes the word. “I like a lot of different music, and find myself listening to different things depending on my mood or where I’m at in my life.” I secretly love that answer. A lot actually.

  “But you tend to listen to more indie stuff?”

  It’s not really a question. Thus far, every time he’s driven, it’s been music on his phone, and it’s ranged from Arctic Monkeys, to Taking Back Sunday, to Cage the Elephant, and now Cold War Kids.

  “I guess,” he shrugs before catching my eye quickly with a smirk attached to his lips. “We seem to have that in common.”

  “We do,” I nod in agreement and then laugh out suddenly. “Eric used to complain every time he was in the car with me.”

  Ryan tenses up, and I suddenly feel bad about bringing Eric up. I’m sure my talking about him makes Ryan apprehensive. Or uncomfortable even. People never know what to say when you talk about loved ones who are dead. Especially when they died so young and tragically, but suddenly I’m in the mood to talk about him.

  I need to talk about him.

  “He used to listen to only classic rock, which was okay, just not my favorite,” I smile, staring out the window at the beautiful scenery we’re passing because, damn, it’s so pretty here. My fingers play with my necklace. “That is until we had Maggie, and all she liked to hear was Radio Disney.”

  “Radio Disney?”

  “Yup,” I nod with wide eyes to show my suffering. “It was terrible, but she loved it and would sing along to everything, butchering the words the way only a two-year-old can.” I grin to let him know that it’s okay and that I won’t shut down on him.

  “How did you meet Eric?” he asks softly, hesitantly, like just saying his name could set me off, and I feel bad about that.

  I hate making people diffident with my misery, and that’s clearly what I’ve done. I make a note to suffer in silence a bit more around Ryan, who’s been nothing but nice and easygoing since we started on this strange venture together.

  “His family moved down the street from me when we were twelve. My mom and I went over to welcome them to the neighborhood, and Eric and I ended up playing together all day.” I smile, thinking back on that day. He was so damn cute. So sweet and funny and perfect. “Two weeks later he asked me out for ice cream,” I shrug, because I don’t want to think about the ice cream.

  “For real?” He glances over at me quickly before looking back out to the road. “You’re telling me you were with him since you were twelve?” His tone is completely incredulous, and I can understand why. Everyone I’ve ever told reacts this way.

  “Yes.” I scrunch my nose. “Crazy, right?”

  “Um.” He looks like he’s deciding how to respond. “A little maybe,” he chuckles uncomfortably, running a hand through his thick inky hair. “Did you ever break up?”

  “Nope,” I laugh at his expression. “And yes, before you ask, he’s the only man I’ve ever slept with.”

  “Fuck.” His hand meets his bearded jaw, and I try to picture him with smooth skin. I can’t decide which version of Ryan I’d like better. Clean-cut Superman or this sexy brooding Batman. Sexy? Shit, did I just call him sexy? I don’t realize I’m staring until he catches me, and I quickly look away. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

  “I know, right?” I muse, hitting Ryan in the arm playfully. “We just worked, you know? It never even occurred to me to break up or date someone else.”

  He smiles a crooked smile. “That’s actually pretty sweet. Innocent and a little twisted maybe, but sweet.”

  I laugh, smacking him again, and he feigns injury, rubbing his arm like I hurt him. Pussy.

  “Can I ask…,” he trails off, shifting uncomfortably, like he’s afraid to push his luck. “What was your daughter like?”

  “Perfection personified,” I reply automatically, and he nods once as if he’s not surprised by my easy response. My hand clasps my pendant. “She had hair like mine and eyes like Eric’s. Sort of a perfect mixture of both of us, but totally tenacious. At the age of two, she had mastered the art of manipulating her parents. Especially Eric. He gave her whatever she asked for. He could never say no to her.”

  I swallow down the burn in the back of my throat as I think on that. I don’t want to think on that or I’ll cry. I know I will.

  So I continue, and he lets me, staying silent while I work through this.

  I haven’t spoken about either of them really, and I don’t know why I’m doing it now with a virtual stranger, but I am. It’s Ryan, I realize. There’s something freeing, almost familiar about talking to him, and I’m taking full advantage.

  “She was smart,” I tell him reverently. “I mean,” I laugh a little self-consciously, “I know all parents say that about their kids, but she totally was. She had the ABCs down after me singing it to her twice and could count to twenty at the age of two.”

  His gaze shifts over to me with a warm smile. “Smart like her mommy.” I smile back at the compliment, ignoring the burn in my chest at the word mommy.

  I keep going. I can’t seem to stop myself.

  “Eric really wanted a boy.” Ryan’s eyes go wide
, and I think I’ve officially stunned him with my candor. “He wouldn’t even discuss girls’ names.”

  “You didn’t find out ahead of time?” I love that he asked me that question.

  I shake my head no. “There are few really good surprises in life, and finding out the gender of your baby upon delivery is one of them.”

  Ryan nods like he can understand that logic. “So was Eric really upset when you had a girl?”

  I shake my head again, thrilled that Ryan is playing along in this conversation. The man sets me at ease in a way I haven’t experienced since Eric. And maybe that should scare me, but it doesn’t for some reason. There is something about Ryan. More than just his handsome face and perfect body.

  “No. When Maggie came out, they placed her on my stomach, and he began to weep with the biggest grin on his face. Said he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than our little girl, and if he died that moment, he’d die happy.” I smile, but it’s so freaking sad that it turns into a frown and tears begin to roll down my cheeks.

  “Shit,” Ryan says, glancing over to me and reaching out like he’s about to grab my hand. A rush slams through me at the thought of him touching me. I can’t decide if I’d welcome his touch or not. If it would be comforting or… something else entirely. Luckily, he doesn’t touch me, his hand goes back to the wheel instead. He’s stricken. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked anything.”

  “No,” I shake my head, trying to smile through my tears. “Thank you for asking me about them.”

  He’s baffled. “How can you say that? You’re crying.”

  “I am,” I nod in agreement. “But no one ever asks me about them. Probably because I don’t usually want to talk about them, and they’re afraid of this,” I point to my tears. “But today I did want to talk about them, and you asked, and it was exactly what I needed, so thank you.”

  He sighs out, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just going to say this, and I’m sure you’ve already heard it a million times over, but whatever. I mean it, so I’m going to say it.” I look at him with bated breath because I have no idea where he’s going with this. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, Katie.” My breath stalls. “Thank you for sharing all of that with me.”

  I grin, but it’s weak. “Thank you for listening, Ryan. You’re an amazing man.” He chuckles lightly, and I suddenly wonder. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  He laughs out at my random change of topic, his eyes skirting to mine for the briefest of seconds, before he replies, “No.” There is something in his tone I don’t quite get.

  “No, as in not right now, or no, as in never?” Some guys are just players and don’t do the girlfriend thing. That could be Ryan. I highly doubt that he would have trouble getting a woman if he wanted one, so it has to be something else. As far as I can tell, he’s pretty much perfect. A woman would have to be insane to not want him.

  “I’ve had girlfriends.”

  He’s being intentionally vague, and I’m about to pounce on that, because I don’t do particularly well with that. “Tell me about your last one then.”

  He shifts uncomfortably, and I wonder if I’m overstepping, but just when I’m about to retract my question, he answers.

  “Her name is Francesca. We were together for two years, and she was my world.” Shit. This isn’t going to end well, and I wish I hadn’t gone there with him. I feel like such a bitch right now. “I found out about eight months ago that she was cheating on me with someone I worked with.” I gasp. I can’t help it. “I think they’re engaged now.” My eyes bug out of my head, and he nods. “It hurt. I won’t lie about that. I loved her and thought she could be the one, but she’s not.” He shrugs like it’s that simple, but I can’t imagine it being so. “Stop looking at me like that, Katie. It’s fine. I’m relieved not to be with her anymore. She wasn’t who I thought she was, and I was blind to the rest. I’m headed out to Seattle, and I’ve met you, and I’m looking forward, not back. It’s the way it’s meant to be.”

  “Jesus, I wish I had your mindset on things,” I blurt out, but I realize just how much I mean it once I’ve said it. “Sorry, I just can’t imagine anyone choosing some other guy over you.” And now I’m blushing because I know how that sounded. But like I said, a woman would have to be insane.

  He grins widely, his expression slightly mischievous. “Maybe we’re both headed for better things then.”

  “Maybe,” I agree, and something warm stirs inside of me. Something I have no name for, and yet instinctively recognize all the same.

  “Hey, Ryan?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.

  “Yes?”

  I smirk. “I bet he has a really small dick and sucks in bed.”

  His smile is huge and breathtaking. “I bet he does too.” Then he winks at me conspiratorially. “Can we stop soon for food? I’m getting hungry and need to stretch a bit.”

  “Definitely. You know me, I never turn down food.”

  He looks to me with the most serious of expressions. “Yes. I do know you.”

  Our eyes lock for another moment before he turns back to the road. That warmth from minutes ago turns hotter, swarming everywhere. A tingly bubbly sensation rises over me like I drank a glass of champagne too quickly. I’ve known this guy less than a week, but I think he may be right.

  He does know me. And I think I may know him too.

  And that’s okay, I tell myself. He’s a friend. That’s what this feeling is all about. Friendship. It couldn’t possibly be anything more.

  By the time we pull into Charleston, it’s late and we’re both fried. We had stopped for a little while in Myrtle Beach and almost stayed the night, but then we decided to just finish the drive here. The hotel we picked is right on the ocean and looks big and beautiful. I drove the last part from Myrtle Beach, and we got stuck in traffic, so what should have been a two-hour drive, ended up being more like three and a half.

  Ryan is a good sport, and kept my frustration to a minimum by playing stupid games like would you rather. I now know a lot more about Ryan than I thought I would, let me just say that.

  Speaking of Ryan, he’s walking toward me with an uneasy expression. He had gone to check in for both of us while I watched our stuff and stretched my legs a bit in the lobby.

  “So um, bad news.”

  “What?” I groan, sagging a bit. I’m so not in the mood for bad news.

  “They only have one room left. It has two queen beds, but that’s it.” He’s trying to spin this with a brighter tone, and it’s absolutely for my benefit. Now I feel like a snobby bitch for my attiude. “It’s just one night or we could try to find a different hotel.”

  I walk over and throw my arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely because he really is so wonderful. This man. All he’s done is try to keep me happy when I imagine he’s just as spent as I am. Ryan’s arms sweep around me and he presses me into his warm, hard chest. He smells like clean laundry and whatever heavenly cologne he wears. I didn’t expect this. For a simple hug to feel so… good.

  “No,” I shake my head as I pull back. “It’s just one night. I’m sorry if I’m being bratty.”

  His eyes track me, his typical bright emerald green just a touch darker. “You’re not being bratty.” I cock an eyebrow, and he smiles big. “Maybe a bit, but I get it. You’re tired.” He’s teasing me now, and I playfully smack his arm, making him laugh. “So you’re good with the shared room? They said they’ll have two rooms tomorrow should we stay.”

  “Yes, Ryan Grant, I’m good. Let’s get me to bed.”

  His expression shifts to something I can’t quite figure out. He stares me down for another moment, and I can feel my heart beating. Not faster. Not necessarily that. Just… beating. He’s making my heart beat. Before I can dwell on any meaning behind that, he grabs both of our suitcases, walking toward the elevator. I’ve stopped fighting him when it comes to carrying my luggage; the crazy gentleman has been insistent on doing it.

&n
bsp; The room is large with a pretty bathroom, two beds and even a balcony that faces the ocean. Bonus.

  “This is fantastic.”

  He nods once, staring at the beds and then me. “You can use the restroom first if you’d like?”

  “Thanks,” I grin, trying to ease the awkward discomfort I can feel rolling off of him.

  He’s wary, and I get that.

  We don’t know each other that well and spending the night in the same room is a bit…delicate.

  I take what I need out of my suitcase, use the bathroom, brush my teeth, and change into what I plan to wear to bed. I can’t exactly call them pajamas because they’re not. Normally, I don’t wear anything to sleep, other than my panties. Eric loved it, but something tells me that wouldn’t be appropriate for Ryan. So I’m wearing a thin white tank top and boy shorts. I’d go baggier, but then I’d be tossing and turning from the discomfort of the extra material against me.

  Ryan’s eyes dodge me as he grabs his stuff and walks right into the bathroom. I crawl into the bed closest to the bathroom and roll on my side away from his bed. I figure he’ll want as much privacy as I can give him. I hear the shower start and the sound of water running through the pipes.

  I don’t think about the man on the other side of the wall in the shower. I don’t think about him once as I fall asleep. Nope. Not even a little.

  6

  Kate

  * * *

  I wake early—much the way I do every morning—but on this particular morning, I am instantly aware of the large body in the next bed. His soft, steady breathing fills the otherwise quiet room, making me hyperaware of every move and sound I make so I don’t wake him.

  I grab my running stuff, bringing it into the bathroom with me and shut the door behind me as softly as I can. I haven’t had to deal with sneaking around in the predawn hours in quite some time, and it is a strange feeling. A sad one too, so I’m trying not to think too deeply on it right now.