Chapter 30
I’m practically vibrating with excitement and nerves as Calvin and I board a private jet to Boston.
What if Abigail tells me she’s not okay with me dating Calvin?
What if things get awkward? Hell, things are already awkward.
I mean, I am dating her ex-fake fiancé, and let’s not forget that she lied to me about being pregnant. I inwardly groan. This is a mess.
As the plane climbs through the clouds, I settle into my seat beside Calvin, trying to keep my composure. The jet is ridiculously luxurious. I could get used to this level of fancy.
Calvin turns to me with a sudden, serious look on his face. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins, and I brace myself. “I’m tired of promoting other people’s clothing brands.”
“Are you serious?” I can’t help but smile.
“Dead serious,” he confirms, leaning in a little closer.
I’m grinning like an idiot now. “I already have so many ideas. I’ve been designing clothes for you since I met you.” I grab my iPad and open the folder marked Calvin’s Closet. The possibilities are endless.
He laughs, eyes lighting up. “Are you about to show me your infamous iPad? The one I wasn’t allowed to see?” He leans back in his seat, looking smug.
I can’t help but chuckle even as I groan, remembering the time I basically threw myself at him trying to retrieve the iPad, my body accidentally pressing up against his in the process.
It was embarrassing and kind of… a little sexy?
Yeah, I’m not going to lie, it was very hot, but also very confusing.
“That’s when I knew I’d have you,” he says. “You were ready to climb into my lap to get the iPad. I saw it then, how badly you wanted it. How badly you wanted me.”
I laugh, handing him the iPad. “You’re ridiculous. Anyway, check this out,” I say, enthusiasm bubbling over. “I’ve done casual, formal, and business wear, all inspired by your current style, except, you know, maybe a little more fashion-forward.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”
I swipe through the designs, pointing to the first one. “For casual outings, imagine you in this: a black bomber jacket with leather sleeves, distressed black jeans, and your high-top sneakers. I know you’ve got a million pairs already.”
His grin widens, but I don’t stop there. I swipe to the next design. “And for something sporty, I was thinking this: a fitted black track jacket with white stripes, jogger pants, and sleek running shoes. It’s a look that says, ‘I can be casual, but still a total stud.’”
I pause, realizing I’ve been talking nonstop. My cheeks flush a little. “Um… there’s more if you want.”
Calvin looks up from the iPad with a smirk. “Marry me.”
I burst out laughing. “Right, anyway, I need to use the restroom, but feel free to scroll through and let me know what you think.” I plant a quick kiss on his lips and head to the bathroom, my heart still doing little flips.
Of course, I take out my phone, recording a few videos of the luxurious space and snapping at least ten pictures of myself. I mean, how could I not? I’m on a private jet. Even if I don’t post the videos, I’ll definitely share a picture or two.
I’ve had to be mindful of what I post when I’m with Calvin.
He and I have filmed plenty of viral trends over the past few days he spent with me, but they all sit untouched in my drafts.
Before I flaunt my relationship on social media, where I know Abigail follows me, I need to talk to her first. I refuse to rub it in her face, even if their relationship was fake.
But then again… was it really?
It’s a thought I’ve been pushing away, refusing to let myself believe because it’s too much.
What if she has real feelings for Calvin?
Just because their relationship started as a lie doesn’t mean emotions didn’t develop.
I’ve read too many marriage-of-convenience romances to ignore the possibility.
Maybe that’s why she lied about the pregnancy, to hold onto him a little longer.
When I return, the sight before me is nothing short of a feast. A lavish spread of sushi, fresh fruit, assorted cheeses, and a bottle of wine sits elegantly arranged on the table, looking straight out of a five-star restaurant. My stomach growls in appreciation.
“Wow,” I breathe, taking it all in. “This looks incredible.” I practically eye the sushi like it’s my soulmate.
Calvin smirks, lounging back as he tosses a grape into his mouth with effortless precision. “I only hire the best. Now, sit. Eat.”
Never one to argue with good food, especially after the whole fainting incident, I grab my chopsticks, pluck up a piece of sushi, and take a bite. The flavors explode on my tongue. I hum in satisfaction, already reaching for another.
Calvin watches me, an amused gleam in his eyes as he grabs a slice of mango. “I love your designs, you know,” he says casually between bites. “Seriously. I’m all in. If you need anything to make them happen, just say the word.”
I pause, his words settling warmly in my chest. His support means more than I can express. “Thank you,” I say, offering him a soft smile. “I will.”
His expression turns a little more serious, his fingers idly rolling a grape across the table.
“Are you ready for the conversation with Abigail?” he asks once he finishes chewing.
“I get that things with her are kinda complicated right now, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that she loves you.
So, if there’s anything you need from me, whatever it is, I’ve got you. ”
His sincerity melts me. I exhale, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I will,” I murmur, then hesitate before voicing the thought that’s been gnawing at me. “I just… I can’t shake the worry that she may have had, or still has, feelings for you.”
Calvin doesn’t even blink. “Trust me, your sister doesn’t have feelings for me.”
I study him, searching for cracks in his confidence. “How do you know?”
He leans forward slightly, eyes steady on mine. “Because I know when someone wants me. And Abigail doesn’t.”
I pick at my sushi, but decide to let it go for now, because if Abigail does have feelings for him, I’ll find out sooner or later.
As the evening winds down, Calvin leads me to a suite that looks like something straight out of a luxury travel magazine.
The spacious queen bed is made up of pristine white linens, flanked by sleek modern nightstands.
A dazzling chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting a warm, romantic glow over the room, and a massive 65-inch TV dominates one wall.
Every detail, from the plush rug beneath our feet to the decadent seating area by the window, screams opulence.
We slip into our matching silk pajamas, the fabric soft and luxurious against my skin.
The room is dimly lit, the ambiance soothing as we finally settle into bed.
Calvin pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me as though he’s afraid to let go.
His warmth, his scent, it’s intoxicating.
I close my eyes, but the tension between us lingers like a spark waiting to ignite.
It doesn’t take long.
I feel him against me, his arousal pressing into my lower back.
Heat pools in my core as I turn to face him, my lips colliding with his in an unrestrained kiss.
The hunger between us is undeniable. His hand cups my breast, his touch firm yet tender as his tongue explores my mouth with the same fervor I feel burning inside me.
Then his other hand slips under the waistband of my pants, finding me with an accuracy that makes my body tremble. His fingers tease my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure that make me moan into his mouth. My hips instinctively grind against his hand, desperate for more.
“Sir,” I gasp, gripping his head, trying to pull him closer, though it feels like we’re already as close as two people can be.
When he slides a finger inside me, the sensation is almost too much.
“Please, more,” I beg, my hand finding its way into his pants to wrap around his hard, throbbing length.
It’s been so long, too long, and I need him more than I need air.
“Damn it,” he growls, suddenly pulling back, his breathing ragged. He sits on the edge of the bed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Confused, I sit up, my chest heaving. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, guilt creeping in despite the throbbing desire still consuming me.
I know he’s trying to honor my decision to wait until I’ve spoken to Abigail, and I haven’t exactly been making it easy for him.
In my defense, I didn’t think it would be this hard not having sex with Calvin.
He glances at me with a look of longing and restraint. “It’s not you,” he says. “It’s me. I think… I think it’s best if I sleep somewhere else tonight.”
My heart sinks. “What? No. I can control myself,” I plead, reaching for him.
“I can’t,” he admits, his voice raw. “I haven’t been inside you in months, and it’s killing me.
It’s taking all of my self-control not to throw your legs over my shoulders and fuck your brains out.
” He grabs a pillow, his frustration palpable.
Leaning down, he kisses me deeply, his lips lingering like he’s savoring the taste of me one last time.
“God, you’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters before turning and walking out of the room.
“Ugh!” I collapse back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, torn between frustration and desire. The ache he left behind isn’t just physical, it’s emotional too.
With Calvin absent from the room, exhaustion quickly sweeps over me, and I drift into a deep sleep.
I’m stirred awake by soft, lingering kisses on my forehead. “Wake up, Peach. We’re here,” Calvin murmurs, pulling me gently from slumber.
Blinking my eyes open, I stretch lazily, still caught in the fog of sleep. “Oh… how did you sleep?” I ask groggily.
“I didn’t,” he admits with a small, tired smile. “Had an important conference call.” He pauses, pulling his Amex card from his pocket and handing it to me. “Which I need to apologize for.”
I sit up, frowning in confusion as I take the card. “Wait, what’s going on?”
“I have to go to New York tonight,” he explains with a note of regret. “There’s an important meeting I can’t miss. But I’ll try to be back tomorrow. If not, I’ll send the plane to bring you to me.”
“Oh…” Disappointment seeps into my voice before I can stop it. “Okay.” I hold out the card, attempting to give it back. “But I don’t need this.”
“I know you don’t,” he says, gently folding my fingers over it. “But I need to know you have it. It’ll make me feel better.” His eyes soften, and he leans in, brushing his lips against mine. “I love you, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, pressing another kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” With that, I start gathering my belongings.
“Oh, wait,” Calvin says, rummaging through his wallet. He pulls out a check and hands it to me. “Here’s what we talked about for Abby.”
“Thanks.” I tuck it away, smiling softly. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” he replies, stealing one last kiss before I step out of the jet.
As I descend the steps, I spot Jarad waiting by a sleek black car. His smile is warm and welcoming. “Miss Miller, welcome back,” he greets, opening the door for me with a slight bow.
“Thanks, Jarad.” I slip inside as being back in Boston washes over me. “Please, call me Blair,” I say, offering him a warm smile as he effortlessly handles my luggage.
“Alright, Blair. Would you like to go somewhere before heading to the penthouse?” he asks politely, his demeanor ever professional.
“Actually, I’ll be staying at my parents’ tonight,” I reply, craving the comfort of home over the emptiness of the penthouse. “Could you drop me off at their house?”
“Of course,” he agrees as he starts the car.
The drive is peaceful, Boston’s lights casting a serene glow over the city.
About thirty minutes later, we pull up in front of my parents’ house.
It’s 11:12 PM. Jarad assures me he’s at my service and confirms our next steps.
“I’ll be back to pick you up at 10:45 AM for your sister’s place,” he says.
“Thank you, Jarad.”
My finger barely grazes the doorbell before it swings open, revealing my dad. His eyes widen in surprise. “Blair? Sweetie, what… what are you doing here?”
“Hi, Dad.” I throw my arms around him in a warm hug.
Dad’s voice must have carried, because my mom appears in the doorway a moment later. “Honey, did you just say Blair?” she asks in disbelief.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, moving to hug her too.
She pulls back slightly, examining me with a mixture of surprise and concern. “Sweetheart, how did you get here?”
“Calvin helped with that,” I reply, trying to sound casual as I sink into the sofa.
“Calvin?” my dad echoes, his eyebrows shooting up. “As in Abby’s Calvin?”
I cringe internally at the name but nod. “Yeah… Abby’s Calvin,” I admit, the words tasting bitter.
“Wait, are they back together?” my mom asks.
“No, Mom, they’re not.” I rise from the sofa, the weight of their questions already feeling overwhelming. “I promise to explain everything later. Right now, I’m jet-lagged, and I just want to shower and sleep. Love you, good night.” I kiss them both on the cheek before retreating upstairs.
In the sanctuary of my old room, I climb into my old full-size bed, the worn sheets feeling like a warm embrace.
As I relax, I notice my phone’s screen lighting up with a missed call from Calvin. I dial him back, and he answers on the first ring.
“Hi,” I greet, unable to keep the warmth from my voice.
“Hi,” he replies. “I miss you.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah? I miss you too.”
“Jarad told me you’re staying at your parents’ tonight.”
“Yeah, I just felt like being with them,” I explain, quieter now as exhaustion creeps in.
“Of course. How are they?”
“They’re good, but… well, they called you Abby’s Calvin,” I admit with a light sigh. “Breaking the news to them is going to be… interesting.”
“We’ll do it together, I promise,” he says firmly, his words like a safety net. “Now, get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you, Peach.”
“I love you too,” I whisper, my eyelids already heavy. Hanging up, I let sleep claim me, pulling me into the comfort of dreams.