A Game With The Billionaire

Chapter 27:

Emma:

One thing I know is that Mr. Hilton and his wife sure don't seem to be buying our whole fake dating plan. Considering the fact that they’ve been married for many years, I am sure they can recognize a felony dating when they see one.

Dining with the Hiltons sure is harder than I thought, how does Clara and her sisters cope? Though, I did hear that Mr. Hilton is a completely different person when it comes to his daughters.

We are in a Michelin starred restaurant and still, I feel uncomfortable maybe because of the fact that Jeremy is sitting next to me, radiating heat.

“So why did you two start dating?” Mrs. Hilton fixes us with a gentle smile, she’s a warrior in the cosmetic industry, going for meetings, having dinner with potential CEOs, honestly I have no idea why she’s eating dinner with Jeremy and I.

I breathe in about to lunge into an episode on how Jeremy and I met when he beats me to it. “We used to date when we were younger. We were just immature teenagers, you know? But now we are all grown and grounded, and some feelings never die no matter how much we push and shove it aside.” Jeremy looks down on me with a soft smile, biting on his lower lip.

Don’t look at me like that! We’re only supposed to be fake dating. Stop looking at me like I just hung the damn moon.

I adjust in my seat, eyeing the glass of wine on the table. No, it’s too early to get drunk. “Yes, what Jeremy said.”

“The gaming industry is brutal. I can’t imagine two rivals keeping it up while in love.” Mr. Hilton straightens, frowning at us. We’re about to be caught red-handed, of course Jeremy butts in to save the day as usual.

“We’re rivals at work. Not in life. And if that’s a problem for anyone, they can take it up with me,” his eyes lock onto mine, steady and unnerving. Because I am a woman and will swoon when a man says something that’s straight out of a romance novel, my heart does a traitorous thing, it beats faster.

Mr. Hilton seems satisfied with his answer because he looks at his wife also with softness in his eyes. I heard they were rivals back in the day. We continue eating in peace and after dinner, Mr. Hilton promises to schedule a meeting with Kathy, my assistant so we can focus on the investing contract. Just a few more months and my game is officially going into launch.

When he’s gone, it’s just Jeremy and I and a table filled with food. Should I commend Jeremy for saying words that can make any woman’s heart flip? Certainly not, he might take offense but knowing Jeremy, he’s rarely one to take offense.

“We should head home soon.” I tell Jeremy, pulling out my phone in preparation to text Emily and update her about today.

Me: Jeremy is really good with his words. Smooth talker with zero shame. Well we all know. You know maybe the rumours of him being a player is true, I bet that's what he uses to charm the ladies. Good for him, really. If I had his way with words, I would snag every literal man on earth!

I click send and squint at the screen. I freeze when I see the name at the top of the chat: Jeremy.

No, no, no, no. I accidentally sent the message to Jeremy.

My chest tightens and my fingers grip at my phone. My heart is hammering in my ears. How...how did I even—

The words stare back at me mockingly, my cheeks burn so hard. I watch with a panicked expression as Jeremy’s phone screen lights up on the table and he picks it up, the easy going smile he had all evening collapses as soon as his eyes read the message.

Oh God, no. What have I done?

His shoulder hunches forward, like someone just punched him in the chest. He sets the phone down on the table and looks at me with a glassy expression.

I f****d up so badly my stomach twists.

“Jer—” I open my mouth to say something but the look he gives me is one with enough hurt.

“Emma,” his voice is strained; he can’t even look at me. It’s evident in his whole posture, Jeremy’s pissed. “Go home, I’ll be late.” He stands and leaves the restaurant, he doesn’t argue, doesn’t ever raise his voice, doesn’t even demand explanations. When Jeremy’s wounded, he simply removes himself from that pain.

The drive home is a blur of red lights and traffic. I sit on the couch patiently, pleading to the universe that he should walk through that door so I can apologize. What I did was uncalled for and I should apologize, but just imagining the look of hurt on his face when he read that text makes me feel even worse.

Rain starts pouring, rapping against the windows and that’s when the worry settles in. Jeremy is nowhere to be found and the rain is brutal outside, his body is so sensitive, one minute in the rain, he is going to be burning. I try his cell, but it's switched off.

Damn it.

The door finally unlocks and Jeremy walks in, soaking wet. Golden dark hair is plastered to his forehead, his now wet shirt clinging to his toned muscles, the tips of his nose are bright red and his eyes are glassy. Gosh, what if he has caught a cold?

“Jeremy.” My voice is laced with enough panic. I grab the thick blanket on the sofa and walk towards him going on my tiptoes so I can drape the blanket on his shoulders. “What if you have a cold? Don’t do that again.”

I try rubbing warmth on his shoulders with the blanket but he doesn’t move, or says anything. He just watches him under his wet lashes.

“Ask me,” his voice is hoarse.

“What?” My hand freezes on his shoulders.

He looks down at me, fixing those golden brown eyes on me. “Ask me, Emma. Go on. Ask me if I have ever been with a woman for the past six years.”

“Jeremy—”

“Ask me.”

I swallow, mixed feelings rising suddenly. “Have you....been with anyone else?”

“No.” The word punches me straight in the gut. “Not a single touch from any woman, not a single kiss. I spent six years deleting every woman’s number who asks me out.” His chest heaves and I part my mouth in surprise but he doesn’t stop there.

“I have your name carved so deep under my skin that talking to any other woman feels like a betrayal. I taste you on every breath. I see you in every room I walk into. I close my eyes and it’s your body I am remembering.” He’s shaking now, and I don’t know if it is from the cold or something else.

“So yes, Emma. Tell your friends I am a playboy. Tell them I am out there kissing lips and charming women with my words. Tell them whatever lie makes you sleep at night but don’t you dare sit across from me at a table and state I can touch another woman when I have spent half a decade worshipping you.”

I look at me, too stunned to speak.

“You’re engraved in my body, my blood and my f*****g soul. No woman can ever take your place; I would rather die than touch another woman.” He drags a shaky hand through his wet hair.

You hurt me! I want to yell. If you don’t want any other woman, then why did you hurt me? Why did you betray me? Why did you leave me? Why are you treating this like it’s some sort of puzzle? Why can’t you let me understand this, Jeremy?

“I am still pissed at you for that message, I can’t unsee it. It’s burning behind my eyes.”

He steps back and the blanket slides off and pools at his feet. He’s going to his room, panic shoots in and I wrap my hand around his wrist without thinking. He turns and looks at me, exhaustion evident in his eyes.

“Emma,” he says, his voice low and tired. “No.”

I hold tighter, even though my hands are shaking. “I am sorry.”

He doesn’t say a word. Water keeps dripping from his lashes and his jaw is clenched so tight I can see it ticking.

He pulls free from my grasp. “I am tired. Goodnight.”

And with that, he walks up the stairs and I hear the door of his room click shut.

Dazedly, I walk to the couch and hug my knees tight, ignoring the hard rapping of rain drops on the window. This was exactly what I was trying to avoid, it always gets complicated. Everything about Jeremy and I is complicated, how in the hell am I going to survive this especially after the words he just said?