Chapter 1
Becka
For someone I'd known less than four hours, he sure was bossy.
"Pack your stuff," he said. "We're leaving."
I stared up at him. "We?"
His hair was thick and blond, and his eyes were so blue, they made the ocean look dingy in comparison. "Well you're not going alone," he said.
I struggled for a reply and came up empty.Honestly, what was I supposed to say?The guy in front of me wasn'tjusta new acquaintance. He was also Jack Ward – my favorite author, a total hottie, and a billionaire several times over.
Unfortunately, he was also just a little bit scary. Ask my roommate.He'lltell you – well, unless he's already escaped through his bedroom window, that is.
I glanced around the condo where I'd been living for the past two weeks. To say the arrangement had gone to crap would be giving crap a bad name.
Turns out, my roommate was a druggieanda dude. On top ofthat, he wasn't terrific at keeping his horse in the barn, if you know what I mean.
Until just five days ago, I'd never even met the guy, much less realized that "Nicky" wasn't short for Nicole, but rather Nicholas. But in my own defense, the gal who'd rented me the place had neglected to mention this little detail, along with a whole bunch of other stuff – on purpose, no doubt.
And me? Like a total sucker, I'd actually trusted her.
Now I didn't knowwhoto trust. I bit my lip.If only my sister were here.
Jack's voice interrupted my thoughts. "If you need boxes, let me know. I'll have some delivered."
I blinked. It was nearly ten o'clock on a Sunday night. This was a small town. Nothing was open. I shook my head.And was box delivery seriously a thing?
Not in my world, it wasn't.Then again,Iwasn't a billionaire. In fact, my bank balance was dangerously close to zero.
I just had to ask, "Who'd do that?"
"Do what?" Jack said.
"Deliver boxes. I mean, nothing's open."
He gave me a look. "Do you need them or not?"
"No," I admitted.
"Good," he said. "Then get packing."
I didn't appreciate his tone. "Don't you think that's kind of bossy? I mean, I never said for sure that I'm moving."
His jaw tightened. "Well you're not staying here. I can tell you that."
Yup, he was definitely bossy.I wanted to argue. But I couldn’t.And why?
It was because he was right.
I couldn't stay. Not anymore. But I'd known that already.
Stalling for time, I glanced around the condo. The place was surprisingly nice. It had come pre-furnished, too, which meant that nearly nothing was mine.
Sure, I had some clothes in the bedroom along with my notebook computer and a few essentials. But the sad truth was, I could probably cram everything I owned into my cheap compact car.
No boxes needed.
