Keeper (A Billionaire Romance)

by Belle Roberts

  I didn’t get a chance to speak as the beige doors shut, and I watched the numbers count down to the first floor.

  I waited for a moment until I knew she was long gone, but her words weren’t. They remained with me as I walked down the corridor back to my room where I lay back on the bed with my eyes closed, trying to work out my next move—all the solutions pointed to seeing Ally. I knew the only answer to getting past her hold was to speak to her, sort through what had happened and why, and only then would I be able to move on with my life and not have to look back. I’d finally be able to let her go for good.

  Ally

  I turned down the radio in the kitchen and tilted my head toward the door, listening intently, and when I heard the knock again, I put down the cake spatula and wiped my hands on the apron I was wearing before running to the hallway and opening it quickly.

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear…”

  I stopped midsentence, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, looking up and down the street to see if anyone else had seen him, because standing in front of me as though nothing had happened between us was Evan.

  “Can I come in?” he asked, trying to look past me.

  I looked back into the empty hall.

  “Look, I don’t think that’s such a great idea, Evan.”

  I went to close the door, but he put his foot into it, stopping me.

  “I heard your mom’s out of town, and I just want to talk…”

  I looked back at the clock in the hall, imagining the look on Carrie’s face if she came home with Aaron and saw him there.

  “Fine, you’ve got five minutes.”

  I stepped aside and allowed him into the hallway, closing the door behind him, all the while wondering if I’d completely lost my mind.

  He followed me into the kitchen and stopped by the island watching me smooth the icing on top of the cake.

  “So you still love to bake?” he asked, pointing to it.

  I nodded, remembering how he used to love me baking almost every weekend, and how just before I’d ended things we used to do it together in this very kitchen, spreading flour all over the countertop and ourselves before falling into the shower laughing.

  I spun the cake around, smiling to myself at the memory. One that I’d rather not let him in on.

  “So why have you come here?” I asked, looking up at him. “I’m not in the mood to fight—not tonight.”

  He held his hands up.

  “Neither am I. I just want answers,” he said. “I don’t want to argue. I just need to know why, and then I can move on and let it go.”

  “Is there any point in discussing and reopening old wounds?” I asked, hoping to put him off the trail. “Why can’t we just leave it in the past? I’m sorry I hurt you, okay? I was a coward, and I was young and stupid and listened to everyone else but myself. I’m sorry.”

  We looked at each other, and I wasn’t sure if that was the answer he was looking for or whether or not he wanted me to break out in an in-depth explanation of everything that had been going through my mind at the time.

  The grumbling of my stomach through the silence cut the tension in the room, and we both looked down at it.

  “Sorry,” I said more to myself than him. “I skipped lunch.”

  He walked around the kitchen without saying a word to stand behind me, and I held my breath, turning my head to the side so I could just about see him.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice wavering slightly. He hadn’t been this close to me in years.

  He reached up and untied the ribbons on my apron, slipped it over my head, and let it fall to the floor.

  “I’m taking you out to dinner,” he said firmly.

  I turned to face him, my back against the counter as I looked up into his eyes. He didn’t move away and kept his closeness to me, so much that I could feel his breath against the side of my face.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked looking over his face. “If people see us, they’ll talk.”

  “Then let them,” he replied and stepped backward giving me space. “We’re only two old acquaintances having a polite dinner.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding, hoping that he hadn’t noticed the effect his closeness had on me. I watched him cross the kitchen and leave into the hall before turning back to look at me.

  “I have a cab outside waiting for me. We’ll take that.”

  “But…”

  “I’ll be outside waiting,” he cut me off and moved out of sight. It was only when I heard the front door close that I realized exactly what I’d agreed to, and the thought of a long drawn out dinner with him made me feel sick. Before Michael’s funeral, the last time I’d seen Evan he was walking away from my house, his rucksack firmly on his back and his head hung dejectedly from another failed attempt to talk to me. That very same day he left Seaview, and now here he was, outside the same house waiting for me. So much had happened since that day, so much change in both our lives, but the small buzz in my stomach was testament to the fact that no matter how much time had passed, Evan was still Evan. He still knew how to ignite that fire deep within me.

  I tiptoed into the hall and looked out the window, and just as he said, he was out there in a cab waiting.

  Crap!

  I hurried up the stairs, throwing off my flour-stained jeans and top, and pulled on the nicest dress I owned. It wasn’t anything special, and I was sure he was used to much more glamorously dressed women in the city, but as I kept telling myself, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going out to try and steal his heart again. I was going out to give him closure, and then I was sure that I’d probably never get to see him again. As I left the house and locked the door, I realized that I was no longer certain if that would be a good thing after all.

  Evan got out of the car and held the door open for me, and I sat inside.

  “You look stunning,” he said, his eyes glancing over my emergency dress.

  I blushed at his comment.

  “Let’s not forget this isn’t a date,” I said back, pulling the belt over me.

  “I know,” he answered.

  The car pulled away from the house, and I settled into the seat trying to convince myself over and over that I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life by letting my defenses fall and going out to dinner with Evan. But after everything I’d put him through, I knew I at least owed him that much.

  “I’m glad you agreed to come with me tonight,” he said turning to me.

  “Not that I really had a choice…” I sighed.

  He nodded.

  “There’s always a choice, Ally. You should know that.”

  We looked at each other, and I got the distinct feeling that he was referring to something much deeper than the offer of a meal.

  I turned away from him, breaking his eye contact, and tried to blink back the tears of frustration and anger that threatened to fall if I let them. He had no idea what it took for me to let him walk away that day, and if only he knew why then he’d understand that it wasn’t my fault. He’d know that back then he meant more than the world to me, and I knew and understood that I would be paying for that decision every day for the rest of my life.

  I felt his hand on my arm, but I refused to look around at him, wishing I’d been firmer at turning him down and not letting him into my mom’s house.

  We continued the rest of the short journey in silence, allowing me time to regain my composure, so by the time the cab pulled up at the fancy hotel just on the edge of Seaview, I was ready to face anything he had to throw at me. No more emotional mess.

  He helped me out of the car and led me up to the door and inside.

  I remembered my mother telling me that it was the place the rich stayed when they came to town because they were far too good to stay among the locals. As we were greeted by staff and ushered toward the restaurant, I got the faintest idea that it was the same place Evan was staying.


  We sat opposite each other in the bright open light, and he ordered drinks for us both before turning back to me.

  “So,” he began, “I’ll cut the crap. Tell me, what did Michael have that I didn’t? What made him worthy of marrying? What was it about him that was worth giving up on me for?”

  I took a deep breath and tried to work out how best I was going to answer him. It was the question I’d known was going to come up at some point but had been dreading, and the honest answer was ‘nothing.’ Michael didn’t have anything extra. In fact, in most areas he’d been lacking incredibly. He wasn’t Evan, and he wasn’t meant to be, but he’d been there to comfort me at the worst time of my life, though I couldn’t tell him that. If I did, he’d never be able to understand why I had to let him go in the first place.

  Our drinks arrived, and I took a long sip of mine to delay answering a little longer.

  “Do we have to go there?” I asked simply.

  He nodded.

  “I can’t stop thinking about it,” he answered. “I can’t stop imagining all those times all three of us were together and thinking you were happy with me when all along you really wanted him instead.”

  “No! No, it didn’t work like that,” I said quickly. “He wasn’t on my radar at all. It just happened a while after you left. It wasn’t planned, and there wasn’t anyone else besides him.”

  I felt myself getting hot and picked up my glass of wine, downing almost all of it at once.

  “Wait here,” he said, getting up and leaving me. I watched him walk away, his image slightly fuzzy, and I closed my eyes before tilting my head back. Drinking with him was almost like torture because I knew what he was trying to get at and what he wanted to find out from me. As long as I stayed strong and kept my guard up, I was certain he wasn’t going to find out—not something as sensitive as that, not in the middle of a crowded hotel bar.

  He came back with a large glass of wine for me and put it down on the table.

  “So, where were we?” he asked.

  I didn’t want to remind him, so instead I changed the subject, turning the conversation to his new life.

  “Well, what about you in the city? Are you engaged? Dating? Secretly married?”

  I glanced down at his ring finger.

  He shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

  “I work and date, that’s all. I haven’t really had time for anything serious.”

  I nodded, ignoring the small stab of relief that I felt in the pit of my stomach. Not that I was expecting to have him for myself, but because the idea of someone else’s hands on him annoyed me immensely. I had no reason to feel that way. It was my fault that we weren’t together and married with lots of babies and dogs, but he’d been mine first. If things hadn’t happened the way they did, it would have been me holding him, not a smug woman from the city.

  I could imagine her now, tall and willowy with thick flowing hair, porcelain skin, and legs that extended for miles.

  The sobering thought made me realize that even if I did want him back, he was so far out of my league now that it would have been completely irrelevant.

  I drank half of the new wine he’d brought causing him to move it away from me slightly.

  “Pace yourself,” he said, his voice carrying a warning, and I nodded obediently like a child and then giggled, knowing that the alcohol was already getting to my head. I enjoyed the buzz it gave me and the distraction from the grilling under Evan’s sober eye.

  “I guess I have you to thank for my success,” he said, leaning toward me. “If it wasn’t for what happened between us, I wouldn’t have left, and I wouldn’t have come across the opportunities I did in the city.”

  “So do you think it was worth it?” I asked.

  “Yes and no.” He knocked back his drink and put it back down on the table. “Was it worth losing you? No. Was it worth not ever being able to put my trust in another woman again? Most probably not.”

  “I’m sorry…”

  The guilt hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew that disappearing on him was going to hurt. I knew it would even though I didn’t have a choice. Now sitting in front of him, hearing how I’d ruined him and how I’d changed the beautiful soul I knew he’d once had, it felt like a punch in the heart.

  “If you’re really sorry, Ally, then tell me what happened,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “Tell me why I couldn’t stay here with you and do everything that we’d planned together?”

  “Don’t do this,” I whispered, feeling the overwhelming sadness come over me again. “I can’t do this here. Not now.”

  I drank the rest of my wine and stood up.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, standing to mirror me.

  “I have to get another drink.”

  “Let me.” He picked up his wallet from the table, but I protested. After everything I’d put him through, the least I could do was buy him a drink.

  “No, it’s fine, Evan. I’ll get us these ones.”

  “Sit down,” he said firmly. “I don’t expect any woman to reach into their purse when they’re out with me. I’m not that guy, Ally.”

  I slowly sat back down again, relieved somewhat because I wasn’t sure how I would walk over there and keep myself steady.

  I knew I should stop drinking. Every part of my body screamed the warning at me because I was at serious risk of making a complete fool out of myself.

  My life choices weren’t always the best, and if I could take a moment to step out of my body and observe myself from another perspective, I was sure I was on the verge of the equivalent to drunk dialing him, only face to face. Damn.

  I sat upright and slapped at my cheeks gently to try and sober up before he got back. Then at least I could speak to him seriously. He was over at the bar, and he turned to look at me, our eyes meeting before I looked away again.

  Even though none of it was his fault, I wanted to hate him. I wanted to feel a deep anger inside at the fact that he bailed and ran to the city and never came back—never made contact with me. I wanted to dislike him for giving up on fighting for me and for going away and creating a life that I could never be a part of, but I knew it was impossible. The only thing he was guilty of was loving me once upon a time and getting well and truly screwed over.

  He came back toward me, and as I looked at him, at the way he walked and the deepness to his eyes, I realized something. I missed him. It was easy to let go and forget the memories of being in his arms and being held by him, but seeing him in the flesh only served as a reminder of what I could no longer have. The only thing I could think about when he put our drinks down on the table was just how much I wanted him.

  I wasn’t even sure if he was the same person inside who had left Seaview all those years ago. I wasn’t sure if it was the drink talking or me finally admitting it, but seeing him back in front of me, despite everything and the years of no contact, it made me realize that there was a large part of me that still liked him more than I dared to say.

  All my previous plans of drinking the next drink slowly vanished as I picked up the glass and took a huge gulp of wine, much to his amusement. Even after all those years, he still made me nervous. He still undeniably gave me butterflies.

  Evan

  “Perhaps you might’ve had enough,” I said to her, sipping my drink casually.

  She giggled at me and covered her mouth with her hand, an action I would have found endearing if I wasn’t still so wound up. In her state, I knew I wasn’t going to be getting any answers about what happened from her anytime soon.

  “So what was Michael like as a husband?” I asked, veering to a somewhat lighter topic.

  She sighed, the soft pink blush of her cheeks evident in the dimly lit room.

  “Is that what you really want to know?”

  I nodded.

  “Of course. What was he like?”

  She shifted in her seat and thought about it for a moment.

  “He was wonderful. Lovi
ng, understanding, considerate…”

  “I see.”

  They weren’t the words I’d been expecting to hear her say. In fact, since they’d been divorced when he died, I was expecting her to say he was an ogre, a monster, or he’d turned to excessive drink, but from what she’d said, he hadn’t changed. He was still the same Michael that I’d always known. Damnit!

  “I guess you’re wondering why we split up then?” she asked, reaching for her drink again. “It sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? Me being married to a man who’s lovely but still not being happy.”

  “Why weren’t you happy?” I asked, and I watched her squirm in her seat.

  “Because…”

  The tension between us intensified in an instant, and she reached for her drink again, but I held it in place.

  “You can tell me without drinking that,” I said firmly. “Why, Ally? Why weren’t you happy with him?”

  “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  She said the words quickly, as though getting them out faster would make everything better, and they hung in the air between us. Somewhere, back in the past, I’d wanted her to still desperately want me. I’d thought of the humiliation I could bestow on her by rejecting all of her advances, but now sitting in front of her and hearing her say it did nothing but make me want her.

  I stared into her eyes and she looked away from me, shaking her head in embarrassment.

  “Oh God,” she whispered. “I think I’ve had too much to drink.”

  “Do you mean that?” I asked, ignoring her last statement. “Do you mean what you said? Is that really what you thought? Is that really why you had to leave him?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “And how do you feel now that I’m here?” I asked. “How do you really feel?”

  She looked down at her glass on the table, trying to avoid eye contact, but I leaned closer to her and lifted her chin up to look at me. Touching her skin felt surreal, something I never thought I’d ever get to do again, and when she lifted her eyes to mine, I kissed her, forgetting about the years of anger I’d been holding onto. I forgot that deep down I was supposed to hate her for what she’d done, and I forgot for that moment that I wasn’t the Evan she used to know.