Reckless Hearts: A Billionaire Romance (23 page)

When class got out, I half expected Owen to be standing outside the door. Maybe a dozen red roses in hand, begging my forgiveness.

He wasn't there, much to my relief. Jennifer was, though, much to my dismay.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said, her arms crossed tightly under her chest, righteous scorn on her pretty face.

"Tell you what?" I said, hoping that maybe she meant something different than I knew she did.

I started walking. She caught up quickly with those long, graceful legs of hers. "Allie! It's all over campus already. I can't believe you let me say all that stuff before. And that you didn't tell me your Owen was THAT Owen."

"I didn't want all this to happen, for one," I said, opening the door and plunging back into that crystal cold morning. The sun beat down, buts its rays didn't give any warmth. I squinted against them.

"Okay, I can sort of get that. Sort of. It hurts, though, I want you to know. But that aside, what are you going to do?" Jennifer said, keeping pace with me. She pulled out a pair of oversized sunglasses and popped them on.

"There's nothing to do."

"What does that mean?"

I stopped, blowing out my cheeks, which were again rosy from the cold. "It's done. Over with.
Kaput
. Yes, that Owen was my Owen. He isn't anymore, though. We're through, which is good, considering that it never should have been a thing in the first place."

"But Allie, he came back for you. That means something. And I was there for you during all this. I
know
you still have feelings for him. Are you really sure you can give all that up?"

I was quiet a long time. Long enough for the cold to start freezing my thighs through my jeans. "It was never meant to be. Let's leave it at that, okay? I wish everyone could see that as well as I can."

Jennifer nodded, though I got the impression that she didn't believe me.

I wasn't sure I believed it myself. Something about seeing him really shook me, woke something up in me. But I needed to stick to my guns on this. It was the right thing to do, for me and for him.

There was talk on campus. Nothing spreads as fast as gossip. Not even light or wildfire.

Soon I became the subject of whispers and poorly hidden glances. Except it wasn't what I expected.

Many of them were impressed. Others were jealous.

"They must think I'm a gold-digger," I said. I beat a hasty retreat to my dorm after that day, and Jennifer had come to keep me company. We sat in our traditional spot by the window with the bench, the sunlight coming through the window warm on our shoulders.

"If that were true," she said, "You wouldn't have told him off like that in public. Besides, I know you're not that kind of person."

"Thanks," I replied. It was comforting that at least she believed me.

And it was true, too. My time with Owen wasn't about things. It was about experiences and feelings I had somehow convinced myself were okay to have at the time. Getting him to buy me stuff had been the farthest thing from my mind.

Messages waited for me on my machine, but I couldn't play them. Not yet. They were from Peabody or Owen, I was sure. There was also the small possibility of the press, I knew. Owen was a hot item in their news cycles right now.

I mentioned that to Jennifer and she laughed.

"What's so funny?" I said, not sure whether I should feel mocked or not.

"No one is going to do that. No one here, anyway."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Pretty much every single student here, and most of the faculty too, I'd bet, are from families who've felt the sting of bad publicity at one time or another. They may stab each other in the back in other matters, but they're actually all pretty much against that sort of thing. So don't worry about it. There are too many skeletons in the closets around here, and people won't risk opening the doors and letting any of them fall out."

"If you say so," I replied, not sure if I believed her. That comment just strengthened my isolation and my knowledge that I wasn't in their little club.

"Maybe he'll be done trying," I said, "Maybe that was his first and last attempt." I looked out the window down at the quad, wondering if I might catch a glimpse of him in that long black coat.

He wasn't there and I didn't know if I was pleased or upset about that.

"Is that what you want, though?" Jennifer said, "Can you tell me right now that you would be happy if he left you alone for the rest of your life?"

"Sure I can," I said, my eyes still scanning the quad, checking in the doorways of the buildings around it and the benches scattered in the space.

"But would you mean it if you did?"

"I should," I said.

"That's not the kind of answer I'm looking for," Jennifer said.

"I agree with you on that one."

***

I
t wasn't the last time I saw him.

Owen lived up to his word. When he wanted something, he wouldn't let himself stop going for it until it belonged to him.

Except this time it wasn't a stock gain or to gobble up a rival company. It was me. And I resisted all the harder because I knew that part of me wanted him to win.

I had just gotten out of class. It was another cold and sunny day. I got outside, the air sharp inside my lungs, when I heard it.

A bark.

That confused me. Animals weren't allowed on campus. No exceptions made, unless you were blind I guess, but I got the distinct and unpleasant feeling that SNYUC did its best to keep such people out.

"Someone wants to say hi."

Owen sat on the bench, one arm stretched idly across the top as though the cold didn't even touch him.

He is very warm
, I thought, remembering from firsthand experience. I shook that from my mind.

I recognized the furry friend sitting politely beside the bench, a narrow nylon lead clutched in Owen's gloved hand.

"Georgie!" I said.

The dog barked at hearing his name, and he stood up, his tail whirling in the air.

I dropped to my knees, not caring about how the cold soaked in through my jeans. I gripped Georgie's face in my hands, unable to keep the smile off my face.

Instantly my spirits lifted. Georgie recognized me; I could see it in those big, soft, brown eyes of his.

I'd gotten out of class early and my classmates had all headed in a different direction, so we were alone out there for the time being. I didn't know if that was good or bad.

"You look good!" I said, and he did. No more dust matting his fur, which was now luscious, thick, and glossy. He had a collar now, too, a couple tags hanging from it, jangling together as he shook with happiness at seeing me.

The cold didn't seem to touch him. Though with that fine, built-in sweater I suppose it couldn't.

He barked.

"I think he's returning the sentiment," Owen said.

I hugged the dog close, not caring if he got a bit of slobber on my parka.

"You adopted him?" I said.

"I told you he'd have a good home."

Then I pulled back and stood up. I tried not to look into Georgie's soft eyes, which melted my insides despite the cold, and failed miserably. I also couldn't resist scratching him behind the ears, which he enjoyed with gusto.

"This isn't fair," I said, "It's a dirty trick, actually."

"All's fair, isn't that what they say?" Owen replied. He stood up as well. "Sit," he said.

Georgie sat. He let his excitement out in a series of pants that drifted as steam through the air in front of his snout.

"It isn't right, Owen," I said, my voice hesitating.

"I think you keep telling yourself that hoping you’ll believe it, but you can't make yourself," Owen said, "Because you know it is right. And it frightens you. It frightens me, too. But that's how I know it's worth the risk. You just have to be willing to take it. So take it with me."

He held out one gloved hand, palm up. I looked at it, seeing the stitching. My own hand, the one not currently buried in Georgie's shag, clenched, my arm tensing, wanting to lift and meet Owen's.

It almost did. I almost let it. "No."

I was glad of the parka. It hid the way I trembled and shook. Georgie sensed it, though, letting out a sympathetic whine.

Even I found it difficult to justify my refusal. I could feel the need, the desire, pulling me towards him. It was magnetic, and almost too much to resist.
Think about your plan. You can't sacrifice it. Not now. Not even for him.

"I still don't believe you when you say that. You don't believe it either, I know. What will it take? What do I have to do to prove that to you?"

"You can't," I said. My hand stilled between Georgie's ears.

"I can't? Or you're afraid I'll succeed? Go on, try me."

I saw students start leaving their lecture halls. They'd be outside soon. They'd see. Not much time. I thought hard, trying to think of something ridiculous. Something he'd never agree to, that might make him go away before my resistance faded.

Because I have to say, the color in his lips and cheeks from the cold enticed and tempted me.

Then I came up with it.

"Sell your company, then. Sell Utopia." It was his baby, his brainchild. He'd never do it, not even for me. If I was lucky, it might even shock some sense into him and he'd stop this whole thing. Stop before it was too late for both of us.

"I can have my stock liquidated in a week," he said. He pulled out his phone and started tapping.

"No, stop!" I said, "I didn't mean it."

My God. He's serious. He'll do it.
I could tell by the set of his jaw, the look in his eye.
And he didn't even hesitate
, I kept thinking.

"Why not? If it will prove to you I'm serious..."

I put my hand over his phone and made him lower it. It felt like I'd just lowered the barrel of a gun aimed straight at my heart.

"I'm not worth it," I said, desperation in my voice now. I was close to breaking. So close. If my hope were attached to a rope it would have been frayed to a single thread. "Can't you see that? What we had lasted only a few weeks. Are you willing to gamble everything on something you may have felt over just a few weeks?"

"You're telling me that you aren't? You, the girl who said what you believed to me and everyone else and damn the consequences back when we first met? Because you can't tell me you don't feel anything. I can see it in your eyes and I know what it is because I feel it, too."

"She wasn't the person I want to be," I said.

"No, she's the one that you are. So stop fighting it and be yourself."

I grabbed him suddenly, getting handfuls of his collar. I pulled him down into a kiss. It was urgent and hot and I'm surprised it didn't melt all the snow on campus. It left us both breathless.

When I pushed him away pressure pushed with similar force behind my eyes. My cheeks and his colored with more than the cold. "Goodbye, Owen." And then, because I couldn't help myself, "Goodbye, Georgie."

Georgie barked.

I don't know why I did it. It felt right, was all. I do know it left me tingling, weak in the knees, and so warm I almost took my parka off.

It also left me wanting more, rather than satisfying me. Though I suppose that all the best things should leave you wanting a little more. Just to remind you how good it was.

Georgie barked again, making my shoulders tighten. I didn't turn around, though. I couldn't look into those lovely brown eyes and say no idea. Whether those eyes belonged to Georgie or to Owen.

N
o matter how hard I tried to concentrate on school and studies, even I couldn't completely avoid the outside world.

I tried to minimize it, keeping my browser set to Wikipedia or a dictionary website for quick fact checking, that sort of thing.

But I also occasionally glanced at news sites. MSN, Yahoo!, that sort of thing. Like I said before, keeping in touch with goings on in the world was pretty much a part of my major.

And it was there in a Breaking News banner at the top of the site that I saw it.

Rumors of management changes at Utopia Incorporated shock business world. Stocks down 5 points in early trading due to worries of high volume options being sold.

I didn't want to click on it, but I did. It was a compulsion. I scanned the poorly edited article quickly, my heart sinking lower and lower into my stomach with each sentence.

He's actually going to do it!
He was going to sell, even though I told him not to. Even though I'd told him thinking he'd never do something like that.

And I couldn't let him.

Though I also couldn't help the sensations of selfish delight and flattery at what I read. It was for me. All for me.

Maybe...
the thought came. I shut it down. There would be no Maybes, not Buts, no What Ifs. There would only be Stop and No More.

And I should tell him in person, I knew.

So for the second time in that semester, I chartered the school shuttle to take me to Manhattan.

The crisp coldness in the air gave the city a crystal clarity, not a touch of smog blemishing the atmosphere.

It was breathtaking the way the sun shone off the skyscrapers, how stark and beautiful the buildings looked set against the blue sky. Everything looked hyper real.

Owen's tower looked the same, but once I got inside I couldn't see it anymore. I remembered that he had a nice view from his office, but I hadn't come all this way to take in that view.

His secretary did a double take when I came in, her eyes widening the second time.

"I have to see him. Is he here?" I said.

"Mr. Ashton isn't seeing anyone at the moment," she said. Those wide eyes of hers flicked over to the doorway that I knew let into a short hall which in turn led to Owen's office.

"So he is here," I said.

She tried protesting, tried getting up and blocking me. She was too slow.

I dodged past her, pushing in through the door. It was then I noticed that it had a lock. Just one of those little button ones on the handle. Nothing sturdy, but enough to keep her from following me for now.