Chapter Fourteen

Past

I trail behind purposely, navigating the mall among the sea of unfamiliar faces and voices.

I can’t shake the unsettling feeling of being here, surrounded by people I barely know.

A resigned sigh escapes me. How long will I have to be here until I can make an excuse to leave?

I walk slowly, my eyes fixed on the storefronts. The bright displays and warm interiors make it easier to block out the fact that so many people are here.

A smile curls my lips when I spot a cute little mug in one of the displays. It’s pink and has an adorable animated puppy printed over it. The urge to buy it and add it to my little collection is strong.

A wave of nostalgia hits as I remember making such mugs and vases. It’s been so long since I last worked with clay, since I’ve been in my art studio back home. I used to spend hours there. School has kept me so busy, I’ve hardly had time for anything else.

I’m lost in my thoughts when Skylar snaps her fingers in front of my face, pulling me back to reality.

Her eyes meet mine, blue to my pale greens.

Skylar is dressed in a crop top and a mini skirt. While her friend, Maria, is wearing high-waisted jeans paired with a halter top. The other friend whom I don’t really know is wearing cut off jean shorts and a Gucci tee.

I stand out with my understated outfiy. The A-line midi skirt I’m wearing is in sage green color. Paired it with a white lightweight knit sweater. I opted for ankle boots and have secured my curls in a ponytail.

“River,” Skylar says. “We’re kinda on a roll here. You might wanna speed it up a bit, unless you want us to leave you behind.”

When I blink up in surprise, she laughs. “I’m just kidding. But please hurry up, will you?”

I manage a smile and reply, “Sure, sorry.” I adjust my Chanel crossbody bag and start walking a bit faster, matching their pace.

I don’t blame her for the lack of patience. It’s not like we volunteered for this shopping trip—it’s just one of those things our dads orchestrated. Skylar’s his business partner’s daughter, and he’s always encouraging me to hang out with her and her friends.

Most of the time, I succeed in avoiding such painfully awkward outings. But today, I had to bite the bullet. Because it’s Skylar’s birthday this weekend and it would’ve been very rude of me to not show up even though she was forced by her father, Richard McAllister to invite me.

I’m not exactly social, and Skylar and her friends are the complete opposite of me. But my dad keeps pushing me to make new friends by stepping out of my comfort zone.

Shopping is a supposedly enjoyable pastime for me when it’s done online but it feels like a chore when I’m coerced into going out with others.

Skylar keeps chatting away, her laughter ringing through the air. It’s not that I don’t like her—she’s nice enough—but this whole situation feels so awkward. Sometimes I wish my dad could understand that friendships can’t be forced. But I understand where he is coming from.

I glance at the racks of shoes, picking one to examine, when a voice near my ear startles me so much that I jump. “Check out these heels, they’re amazing!” Maria exclaims, snatching the shoes from my hands.

Skylar and her other friend squeal. “You always find the best shoes, Maria.”

I stand awkwardly as they swoon over the shoes.

I smile as they hurry to the next stop. They quickly lose interest in what they were doing, and in no time, I’m being dragged into another store.

“Hey, which one do you think suits me better?” Skylar asks them, motioning to a rack of dresses.

As the two inspect the dresses, Skylar notices me.

“Come here, River,” she calls, beckoning me over.

With a hesitant smile, I approach.

“We’d love your opinion on these dresses,” Skylar says.

My guard begins to lower. Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought. As I offer my thoughts on the dresses, I find myself oddly at ease. And before I know it, they are handing me a couple of dresses and are pushing me toward the changing room.

When I come out wearing the sparkly golden dress that’s not really my style, the girls pull their phone and begin snapping my pictures. After that, they take several selfies.

I change back into my clothes and decide to buy the dress only because they insist.

“I’m posting this on Instagram.” Skylar grins, showing me a picture. It’s a group mirror selfie and while I look good, it’s not my thing. My Instagram is private for a reason. I don’t like putting myself or my life out there for the world to see. The paparazzi, though, that’s something I have no control over. As the daughter of a billionaire tycoon, my life is always in the spotlight. But on social media? That’s the one space where I get to decide what stays private.

I shake my head. “No, please. Crop me out before posting.”

“Why?” She whines.

“I just don’t like to post myself on the internet.”

She grumbles but agrees. “At least let me send it to my brother.”

“ What?” I stare at her in horror. “Why?”

This time Maria speaks, “Um, hello, don’t you know Edward has a crush on you?” Her tone is begrudging.

My eyes widen in shock. Edward McAllister is three years older than me, and we’ve barely exchanged more than a few words this year. The fact that he has feelings for me is a revelation I never expected.

Skylar smirks. “Do you know how hard it was to stop him from crashing our girl’s time?”

“I don’t know what to say,” I say dumbfoundedly.

Skylar winces. “Shit. He’s going to kill me if he finds out I told you. We freaked you out with that, didn’t we?”

“A bit.” It’s strange and confusing. How can he feel that way about me when he doesn’t even really know me? We barely exchanged two sentences when we last met, months ago.

The trio is quickly distracted when the store manager brings refreshments for them. I take the time to wander further ahead and before I know it, I’m standing in the men’s section.

Rows of neatly organized shirts and blazers line the right side. I’m about to turn back when a mannequin dressed in snug black shirt and black trousers catches my eye.

As I take in the sight, a familiar feeling washes over me. The feeling of butterflies in my stomach whenever I think about him. Damian. It seems to conjure his presence. I can almost see him in the mannequin standing before me, stylish, with his sleeves rolled up that makes him look hot.

Before I know it, I’m walking over to it. My hand reaches out and I run my fingers across the fabric, imagining it’s him I’m touching. With a smile that tugs at my lips, I reach for my phone. It’s crazy how even a mannequin can remind me of him.

My fingers move quickly over the screen as I type out a message to him. But as I keep typing, something urges me to look up, and my heart skips a beat.

Damian.

I give my head a shake and stare.

He’s definitely Damian. And this time I’m not talking about the mannequin.

He is here . He’s really here, just a few feet away, browsing through the shirts with focused expression. Shock courses through me; It’s as if the very image I’d conjured has come to life, standing before me.

It feels like fate, seeing him here. A rush of joy and surprise washes over me. This… him, here , makes our connection feel undeniably real—like something the universe wanted all along.

With a racing heart, I pocket my phone and tiptoe toward him, a smile forming on my lips. I have a chance to surprise him, to catch him off guard and I’m not about to let this opportunity slip away.

Quietly, I step closer to him, my steps light on the polished floor. He’s so engrossed in examining the shirts that he hasn’t noticed my presence yet, his brows furrowed in concentration.

The thought of having his eyes on me sends a delightful flutter to my stomach. I still can’t believe I had demanded him to see me again three days ago. How I had brazenly asked him to make time for me.

My heart pounded in my throat as I waited that day for his answer. He agreed, but only because I was his “only friend.” His words, not mine. I knew what he was doing—he was friend-zoning me. But I wasn’t fooled. I saw it in his eyes when he noticed me looking at Hal.

His words, his expressions, everything screamed he was into me. So I just have to be patient.

I was already counting down days, sulking to see him. But I can’t believe my luck. He is right there. In front of my eyes. It is fate. A thrill courses through me as I prepare to unveil myself.

With a mischievous smile, I stand beside him, my gaze focused on the shirts as well. Then, in a playful tone, I break the silence. “That black shirt has caught your eye, hasn’t it?”

His head snaps in my direction. Surprise flashes across his features. “River?”

I nod enthusiastically. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were stalking me.”

His eyes flicker before settling into an unreadable mask. His gaze returns to the shirts. “You wish.”

“I truly do.” I say and chuckle at his drawled expression. “What are you doing here anyway?”

He motions to his black shirt which appears to be a bit damp. “Spilled coffee.”

“Oh.” I nod. “But it doesn’t matter though because of the dark color.”

That earns me a sidelong glance.

I chuckle. “So, where’s Hal?”

“Here, Ma’am,” a voice from behind startles me so much I lose my balance. Before I can hit the ground, I find myself in Damian’s arms.

Still holding me against him, he glares at Hal. “She could’ve gotten hurt.”

Hal stares at me apologetically. “Forgive me, Ms. Gibson.”

“It’s okay,” I squeak. Then I stare up at Damian. His nearness sends a jolt through me. “He’s always with you.”

He nods.

“Lucky him,” I mumble under my breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod because words elude me.

Then he asks me if I’m hungry and I nod distractedly again. He speaks to Hal over my head but their voices fade in the background as I focus on the heat of his body still pressed against mine. He hasn’t pulled away yet, still holding me close. That can’t be nothing, right? That’s got to mean something.

Unable to stop myself, I nuzzle into his chest, only to frown when the scent of coffee hits me.

Great. I just rubbed my face against his damp coffee stain. I’m seriously losing it.

“Come.” He takes my hand and starts pulling me along behind him.

“Where are we going?” I ask, breathless.

“To have lunch.”

“What?”

He stops then. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

“I guess.”

“Then let’s go.” When he starts walking again, I clutch his bulging bicep to stop him. “But what about your shirt?”

He motions at Hal who’s carrying a shopping bag. “I have an hour for my meeting. I’ll change after lunch.”

“But I’m not alone.”

His grip tightens on me, his eyes darkening. “You’re not alone?”

God, he looks breathtaking when he’s angry. But why is he angry?

“Uh, no,” I say, still clueless about what set him off. “Skylar and her friends wanted to shop, so I just went along with them.”

His expression shifts, the tension in his jaw melting as his grip on me loosens. My heart sinks when he releases my hand.

“Give me five minutes! I’ll just tell them something came up.”

“You don’t have to. We can do this another time.”

“No!” I shout, surprising him including everyone in the store.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

I quickly make my way to find the girls, my heart racing. I need to come up with something convincing to get out of here, to make sure I can spend the rest of the day with him.

This day, which started out so ordinary, has turned into something extraordinary.

I’m about to spend time with the one person I can’t stop thinking about. Oh, and his bodyguard, of course. But the thought of being near him, even with Hal tagging along, is enough to make everything else fade into the background.