4. Jake
Jake
Six hours with my knees scrunched up, an ache in my right shoulder from the angle I was sitting to keep from crowding Ven, and a growing burning sense of loss that it was all going to be over when we disembarked.
If we suddenly passed through a time loop where we had to stay in this moment forever, I would gladly spend eternity right there with her.
Because I knew that once we stepped onto that island, everything would change.
I had people relying on me. Yara wanted me with her on her happiest day, and I would stand up with her and Warren.
As badly as I wanted to invite Ven along for that, I had zero clue how my sister would react to a stranger.
Jude was bringing his girlfriend with him, and we didn’t know who the fuck that was, but Yara knew that woman was coming.
If I forced Ven on my sister without at least easing her into it, she would likely stab me. Not in a joking “Ha-ha, sisters” kind of way. In a very real, very bloody way that would require immediate medical attention.
I wanted Ven in my life, and providing her a front-row seat to my sister’s level of crazy wasn’t likely to give her the warm and fuzzies. She’d take one look at Yara with blood on her hands and run screaming into the sunset, never to be seen again.
That wasn’t a chance I was willing to take.
As the plane taxied toward our arrival gate, I noticed the tension that was filling Ven matched my own.
We’d been so into getting to know each other, we hadn’t actually spent more than two minutes discussing why we were going to Hawaii.
I’d told her I was meeting friends, and she’d echoed that without either of us elaborating.
I knew the basics of her life. She was the middle child, parents still married, she had an art degree, and she worked at a little studio in DTLA.
That had confirmed she lived in Los Angeles, which was a hell of a relief.
At least now I knew she and I lived in the same city.
I’d been terrified she’d had a layover. Long-distance relationships weren’t something I’d ever personally experienced, and my current work schedule was too insane for me to travel for anything except for work.
She knew the same basic information about me. Eldest child, Harvard grad, lawyer. I’d told her important bullet points of my life without scratching the surface of who I really was. The plane was too full, and I couldn’t risk a journalist or influencer being close enough to listen.
Not only would that ruin Yara’s wedding, but it would put whatever future I had with Ven in jeopardy.
It would drop her into the deep end of my chaotic life—the billionaire heir, my governor grandfather, and the real kicker…
my nightmare of a family. Yara was in a different compartment from our parents and grandparents, as was Jude—only in an opposite capacity.
My relationship with my brother had its ups and downs, primarily complicated by our parents.
Mom always made our lives and career goals feel like they needed to be a competition between the two of us.
A competition I had never actually been participating in.
I didn’t need to compare my successes to my younger brother’s, and he sure as hell shouldn’t be so focused on besting me in everything.
How could he possibly enjoy his own life, celebrating his own accomplishments, if he was constantly trying to one-up me at every turn?
“I need your number,” I told Ven as the plane slowly rolled up to our gate. “Once I get my friend settled and the weekend itinerary figured out, maybe we could meet for drinks.”
She nibbled on the corner of her bottom lip for all of two seconds before taking my phone out of my hands. I’d already unlocked it, and she easily opened my contacts and added herself. Then she texted herself, and I watched as she added me to her favorites list.
I glanced down at the name she’d entered for herself.
Bunny. I switched it to MY BUNNY and was rewarded when I looked up to find her watching me, her eyes filling with an intensity that made me want to throw her over my shoulder, find a hotel room, and spend the next three days fucking her so hard she’d permanently bear the imprint of my cock inside her.
Around us, the other passengers were already on their feet, grabbing luggage from the overheads.
I sat there waiting, barely noticing when the person in the window seat finally began to wake.
Ven glanced at her then turned back to me with a soft, sad smile.
Standing, I reluctantly let her out into the aisle.
My cases were still in first class, and I wasn’t about to fight the flow to get up there.
Ven paused, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder. Those blue-gray eyes darted over my face, like she was memorizing it one more time. “Call me when you get a chance.”
“I will.” Without thinking, I reached out, tucking a few locks of hair away from her face. My fingertip lingered on her soft skin, rewarding me with her shiver and the sight of goose bumps popping up along her neck. “See you soon, Bunny.”
Pink filling her cheeks, she left me standing there with a burning ache in my chest. No longer hollow, now the damned thing had caught fire.
Shaking my head, I stepped out of the way as other passengers rushed by.
It was more than ten minutes before I could reach my own carry-on.
As I exited the airport, I found a driver waiting for me with my name on a card.
Warren and Yara wouldn’t be arriving until later since they were on the East Coast. I didn’t know if Jude and his girlfriend were on the same flight.
When I’d last spoken to him, my brother was campaigning.
Whether it was for himself or someone else, I hadn’t asked.
He wanted to follow in our grandfather’s footsteps and was focused on politics, which made him Mom’s golden child.
Dad detested the political side of his life, so he wasn’t impressed.
Which complicated the whole competition thing between us that much more.
An hour later, I walked into one of the two presidential suites that Warren’s assistant had reserved for us.
Each suite had three bedrooms, and there were only supposed to be six of us, but I figured Yara and her college friend would use the second suite to get ready for the wedding.
I didn’t know much about the girl my sister had gotten close with while she was at school.
Yara had double majored in the classics and art history—which she’d gotten her curatorial masters in.
Both were considered vanity degrees to our mother, who hadn’t wanted her to attend a West Coast school.
Especially when she could have gone to Harvard—although college wasn’t a requirement for what everyone expected of my sister.
Miranda Wilson had one goal for her only daughter, and that was for her to marry Warren Kline.
The sooner, the better. If Mother had had her way, they would have gotten married as soon as Yara had graduated from high school.
Instead, our mother had to wait an entire six years to see that dream come to fruition, and now she wouldn’t actually get to witness the moment.
She had no one else to blame but herself, not that she would ever admit that. Once she found out about the elopement, she would make everyone miserable for at least the next decade. Or until I married Marsha. Which was never going to happen, especially now that I’d found Ven.
Kicking off my shoes, I dropped down onto the bed in the second bedroom and pulled out my phone.
There were a hundred other things I should have been doing.
Like making arrangements for some kind of bachelor party or squeezing in a much-needed nap.
Warren was lucky I was his best friend and not Jude.
He would have planned something with strippers.
It needed to be something I planned, though, not either of my assistants. Hawaii had stunning golf courses. Maybe dinner at a craft brewery. Or if Warren wanted the girls to join us, we could do a sunset boat ride. I wanted it to be an activity my friend enjoyed, so we’d play it by ear.
Instead of making reservations, though, I found myself clicking on Ven’s contact. For a long while, all I could do was stare at her name on my phone, the memory of her blue-gray eyes haunting me.
Me: I can’t wait to see you again.