Chapter 7

Brock

The power still hasn't come back on several hours later. Roughing it, while not ideal or what I envisioned when I spirited Felicia away, is plenty easy because of the generator I equipped the cabin with. To conserve fuel, I take our emergency camping stove and a cast iron pan out to the deck when there's finally a break in the rain allows me to make us a decent breakfast with ingredients I had my assistant arrange with my groundskeeper to pick up just before we took off from New York.

The rain is just starting up again as I step back into the house from the deck. In my time outside, Felicia has gotten up. She's sitting at the kitchen island, wearing my bathrobe and staring out the window at the landscape.

Even with some of the most beautiful scenery around us, I'd still rather stare at her.

I still haven't asked her why she'd been in that auction last night. I know I should, but the very idea that something made her feel like she had to do something like that makes my blood boil. Did she not know she could come to me? That no matter what the trouble is, I will always be ready to help her?

Perhaps I hid my true feelings too well. If I'd made my attraction known when I first felt it a few months ago, perhaps we could have avoided this. I could have eased Olivia into the idea while letting Felicia know that she's not just young arm candy for me.

She's so much more than that.

"Good morning, baby," I greet her. Bringing the platter of eggs, bacon, and fried toast to the counter, I lean in to kiss her on the cheek. She flushes pink, and looks up at me through her lashes shyly.

"Morning," she smiles. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," I say as I hand her a plate filled with breakfast. I even made sure to make her bacon extra crispy, just like I know she likes it.

"Me too." I watch her as she starts to eat, her plush lips moving as she chews intently. She groans in pleasure and it makes my heart soar. "God, I didn't realize how hungry I was."

"A wild night of sex does that to you," I smirk.

And what a wild night it was. I wasn't expecting us to feel so compatible right off the bat, but we are. The age difference between us feels like nothing. She makes me feel two decades younger whenever she bats those dark lashes of hers up at me.

I realize it as if I've been struck with lightning—I love her.

I mean, I always have in some sort of way. For so long, I cared about her because my daughter did. Now it's grown into something so much more than feeling for her as a person and a family friend.

What I'm feeling now, though? It blows every single romantic relationship I've ever had out of the water. She's turned my life upside down in ways I could have never anticipated.

It's thrilling. And fucking terrifying.

What am I going to do? She's my daughter's best friend. Olivia's always been a dreamer, a free spirit who thinks for herself and loves unconditionally. How will she take this change in my relationship with Felicia?

Will she understand why I can't give this up? Why I can't walk away from this young woman we both love deeply in our own, different ways?

The decision is almost paralyzing, but in my heart, I know the answer already. Olivia may be stubborn like me, but unlike both her mother and I, she's quick to forgive. Even if she doesn't understand it now, she will eventually. This all happened so fast that she'll get why Felicia and I didn't tell her anything.

"So what's the plan for the day," Felicia asks me as she starts dragging a piece of toast through the yolk of an egg.

"We can stay as long as you want," I tell her.

I already had the next few days cleared on my calendar to get back on Eastern Standard Time after my trip, but if Felicia wants more time, I'll keep having my assistant adjust my schedule to give it to her.

I glance out the window at the rain beating against the mountainside. "The power isn't back on yet, but the generator is keeping the fridge going. I wanted to take you into town to get you some fresh clothing and more groceries, but it's probably not the best idea to head down in this weather."

She frowns even as her eyes soften. "I don't need more clothes," she shrugs. "And I'm perfectly happy to eat eggs and toast if that's all we have. You always get the perfect runny egg."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Is that a euphemism?"

Her face instantly flushes scarlet the prettiest pink as she looks away, flustered. "No! I'm being serious!"

"Sure. You're always very serious about breakfast food."

Her cheeks go from pink to red as she bites her lip, trying to think of something to say. Finally, she says, "I just mean that it's thoughtful that you know how I like my breakfast. You've always taken care of me."

"It always felt like the right thing to do," I say with a shrug. "And then suddenly I wanted to start doing more than just that. I want to give you everything you've ever dreamed of."

I picture draping her in so many jewels that she'll sparkle in the candlelight while I kiss my way down her body to spread her legs and eat her pussy. I think about what she'd look like on my arm at company events and trips. What it'd be like to wake up next to her every day for the rest of our lives, age difference be damned. I want to make sure she never has to worry about money ever again.

To love her like she's never been loved before.

"But what are you dreaming about?" she asks.

Her question makes me pause. How could she not know?

"You," I say simply.

Her lips part in surprise before she presses her full lips into a hard line. "You don't really mean that …" There's a deep sadness in her voice that wasn't there a few seconds ago.

"This doesn't have to end," I explain. "I know this won't be easy, but we have each other to get through it."

"But what about …" She trails off, looking at her half empty plate, worry creasing her brow.

"Are you thinking about what got you into that situation last night? Or are you thinking about Olivia?"

"Both. But mostly her."

"I've thought about it a lot, too," I admit.

"She'll hate me. She won't be able to forgive me for doing something like this."

I reach forward to take her hand and squeeze it. "Never. I don't think she could ever hate you. She may hate me, though. She's had a lot more practice at that."

"She's never said anything like that to me," Felicia murmurs, squeezing my hand back. Her face is still downcast and uncertain, and I yearn to put her at ease. "Even when she was furious with you. She sometimes thinks you don't understand her, but she knows that you always want what's best for her even if you don't agree about it."

Sometimes, we all need the reminder that our kid doesn't hate us.

And sometimes we need the reminder that our friends have our back as well.

"Felicia, I don't think you understand the difference you've made in her life. In both of our lives. Olivia is confident in herself because you've helped her learn how to be kind to herself. And you've made me realize that I'm capable of loving someone again, even though I thought I was long past feeling like this ever again."

Her green eyes are shining with emotion when she finally looks up at me. I bring her hand to my lips and press a kiss to her knuckles to reassure her.

"Everything's going to be fine. We'll figure it out. It's not going to be easy, but the best things in life are always worth whatever challenge they give us."

"You really think so?" she asks, her voice quiet but strong, just like she is.

I lean forward and press a kiss to her temple. "I know so."

Chapter 8

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?

***

I wake up shivering.

It's early in the morning, and it seems I rolled away from Brock at some point in the middle of the night. Blearily, I sit up and throw my feet over the edge of the bed before reaching for Brock's robe. I pull it on before making my way to the bathroom in the half-light of dawn.

As soon as I shut the bathroom door behind me, I realize that the robe's pocket is vibrating. I pull it out to see a fresh stream of texts and calls from Olivia. As I start to glance through them, my heart drops to my toes.

Apparently after not hearing from me for the last few days, my dad decided to escalate things. He assumed I was hiding out with Olivia, and reached out to her. When they learned that neither of them had heard from me, they went to the green market I work for.

And when they found out that I hadn't been there for several days … Well, it's all gone downhill from there. But it's her last text is what really has my stomach roiling.

I'm freaking out! Where are you? I'm calling our PI if I don't hear from you soon. Please answer me, we're all scared that you're not okay.

I know she's serious about it. She once had their private investigator look into a boy in our pre-calculus class that kept hitting on her during our passing periods in high school. I've never lied to her once but at this point, this is a lie of omission.

I feel like I've betrayed her.

Abruptly, reality starts to cave in on me.

I scroll through the recent messages from Olivia, then all the way back. Years of messages, laughter, and tears alike. She's never been anything but the kindest friend I could ever ask for. In return, I've been hiding out in her dad's vacation house, fucking him behind her back. Loving him without a care for her thoughts or feelings.

There's no forgiving something like that.

My stomach churns once more. I feel like I'm going to throw up because of the stress rocketing through me.

Did I really think that I could keep this secret for the rest of our lives?

I knew the moment I gave Brock my consent that I'd have to live with the consequences, but this is harder than I thought it'd be. I don't regret my choices, but I do regret that I haven't been forthcoming to the truest friend I've ever had.

Can I fix this?

Will she forgive me?

Tears stream down my cheeks as I grip the sides of the sink. I feel powerless, frozen with the weight of making a decision about what to do.

Finally, I manage to shoot Olivia a text saying that I'm safe and that I'll be home soon. My fingers shake as I tap out the words, but I manage to get it out to her so that I can tuck my phone back into the pocket of the robe.

After using the bathroom, I tiptoe back to the bedroom to see Brock still sleeping. Already he has stubble coming in on his chin, his hair falling across his forehead as his chest rises and falls in deep slumber.

I take a deep breath.

I want him so badly it feels like my heart is being crushed under the weight of the feelings. Silently, I slip on a pair of his sweats and a shirt, before slipping back out the bedroom door. Already, Olivia is trying to video call me, but I don't answer until I'm outside, standing on the deck.

The air is cool and refreshing, humid against my skin. I'm sure I'm going to look a bit unkempt for the inevitable call, but there's nothing I can do about it now. She needs to know where I've been. I can't hide it from her any longer.

As soon as I connect the video call, Olivia starts scolding me.

"Thank fucking god, it's really you. Do you have any idea how worried I've been? How worried your dad's been?? We were ready to call the cops, Felicia!" Her eyes look red, as if she's been crying. There are bags under her eyes that she hasn't bothered to even try covering with makeup. My best friend looks like she's gone through hell, and I'm the one that's made her feel like this.

"I know," I say, feeling small and fragile under the weight of her disappointment already. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you all."

"Where the hell are you?! Are you in the city? Drop your location and I'll come and get you. I won't trust that you're okay until I can my hands on you and pinch you for doing something so fucking stupid!"

I take a deep breath.

This is it.

"I'm not in the city, but I'm okay, I promise."

"Are you shitting me?" she practically screams. "Where are you, Felicia?"

I bite my lip. Olivia takes my silence as reason for concern.

"Your dad said you'd done something stupid. Why won't you tell me where you are?"

I'm starting to think I don't have the guts to tell her that I'm in love with her father, that he bought my virginity at an auction held in an illegal-but-otherwise safe sex work establishment, and that he's the love of my life and can't make myself give him up. "I'm fine, I'm just out of town—"

Suddenly, I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. I jump, startled so much that I drop my phone. It falls down to the wooden planks of the deck with a clatter. Before I can pick it up, Brock's reaching for it.

He faces the screen with a neutral look. I hear Olivia on the other side of the call, sputtering in confusion. He waits for her to be silent before giving me an even look over the top of my phone.

I can't read his expression at all, but my heart stops when he starts to speak calmly to his daughter.

"Olivia, sweetheart, we need to talk."