Billionaire romance @ forbidden pleasure

Eight

Felicia

The days have passed in a wonderful blur. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect getaway. It's like a dream, almost too good to be true.

But it's not. It's real.

Not even the thought of returning to our regular lives can get me down.

I watch him as he starts cracking eggs into the pan for dinner. He didn't judge me at all when I asked him to make them, even though we had the same thing for breakfast. Something about doing something so homey like breakfast makes me incredibly happy, so I can't help requesting it for dinner. He looks so domestic in his apron and gray sweats—how could I resist?

Thunder abruptly booms outside, making me jump with an undignified squeak. Brock turns and gives me a knowing smile. As the eggs begin to sizzle in the pan, he leans across the kitchen island to pull me in for a reassuring kiss.

"So much for our hike after dinner," he says, glancing out at the gathering storm.

"I don't mind," I say. "I love the storms up here."

"Just glad you're not getting bored yet."
Never," I say teasingly. He gives me a much longer kiss, one that has me sighing. "Or at least not any time soon."

"That's more like it."

His smile warms me through even more than the fire in the fireplace on the other side of the living area. It's spring, still, so being at such a high altitude means there's still snow clinging to the ground in some places. With the rain not popping up at random times as it likes to do, it can get even chillier in the blink of an eye. Brock jumps at any chance to build a fire so that we could cuddle in front of it.

It's been nice to pretend the outside world exists, if even just for a few days. I know it hasn't been the easiest for Brock, considering he's an influential and important man in the tech industry. Unlike me, he's been sure to keep up on his texts and emails.

For my part, I've continued to ignore my dad's texts and calls. And the ones from work.

And Olivia.

As long as I'm not thinking about it, it isn't stressful. When I do think about it, the guilt threatens to overwhelm me. I've been doing everything I can to avoid my phone. I'd much rather keep living this fantasy with Brock while I can.

Because I know I won't be able to do it much longer.

No matter how much he's reassured me, I can't help wondering if our days are numbered. Something like what we have can't possible work outside of the little world we've made for ourselves over the past few days.

Brock suddenly slides a plate across the counter to me, before topping up my glass of orange juice to complete our breakfast for dinner.

As if sensing my unease, he tries to break through the tension. "What would you say to staying longer than a week?"

My brow furrows. "How much longer?"

"A month, two months ..." He shrugs as he takes a sip of his own orange juice. "A year? As long as we want. I don't want to give you up, Felicia. Ever."

His deep, rumbling voice makes his reassurance much more effective. The tension eases in my shoulders instantly. I hope off of my stool and round the kitchen island. He folds me into his arms without prompting, brushing my hair out of my face to take my lips with his.

Do I want to stay longer? Could I really just let my old life fall to the wayside like that?

More importantly, could I live with myself for doing that to Olivia?