Heart Racer: A Billionaire Love Story Read online

  “Jake!” I called out. My voice pierced the air and shook with panic as I imagined the worst that could’ve happened. Where did Jake go? Did he leave? If so, why? “Jake, where did you go?”

  “I’m in here, babe!” Jake yelled from the bathroom. Cool relief surged through my veins and I wiped a layer of sweat off my forehead as I darted down the hall. Jake was sitting in his wheelchair, shaving at the specially-lowered mirror I’d rented from the medical supply company.

  “Jesus,” I said. I leaned against the door. “You gave me one hell of a scare.”

  Jake grinned. “Sorry, babe,” he said. “You were dead asleep and I didn’t feel like waking you up. Everything okay?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yeah,” I said. “Sorry. Just…you know, getting used to you being here.”

  Jake snickered. “I hope I’m not too much of an inconvenience.”

  I stuck out my tongue before leaning down to kiss him. He tasted like soap, shaving cream and toothpaste.

  “Not at all,” I said softly. Jake bit my lower lip and I moaned softly into his mouth.

  When we pulled away, my heart was pounding and it took every ounce of strength in my body not to grab Jake and pull him back into the bedroom.

  I left Jake in the bathroom and made my way into the kitchen. Suddenly, I got an idea—what if I cooked breakfast for Jake? I’d never exactly been the domestic type and I wasn’t much of a cook, but it seemed like it would be a good way to mark this new chapter in our lives. When we were on the road, travelling, we never had a kitchen, living out of hotels. How hard could it be to make French toast with some eggs and bacon?

  Gritting my teeth, I opened the fridge and got to work. I had three eggs on hand, and even though they were slightly past their expiration date, I figured they were okay. The bread was a little stale, but I was sure that was fine—hell, I even remembered reading somewhere that a certain celebrity chef refuses to use fresh bread for making French toast. Then there was the matter of spices. I didn’t have cinnamon, but I had cumin. They both start with ‘C’, how bad could it be? I figured as I shook a healthy amount into the bowl with the egg mix and a splash of milk. I was pretty sure it’d taste just the same.

  Twenty minutes later, the kitchen was bustling and hot with the smell of frying food. The scrambled eggs looked a little rubbery, but I figured they’d still taste good. And the toast had a beautiful golden crust on the outside that I was proud of—it looked damn near professional.

  Jake rolled in with an odd look on his face. “Are you making Indian food?”

  I burst out laughing. “No!” I giggled. “I made breakfast,” I said proudly. “French toast and eggs! There’s even bacon,” I added, pointing to a plate laden with blackened slices. “But Abby called when I was frying it, so it’s a little chewy.”

  Jake suppressed a laugh and I glared. “It looks good,” he said quickly. “I’m starving!” He wheeled himself over to the chair. “Thanks for doing this, Liv.”

  “No problem,” I said sweetly. I grabbed a bottle of maple syrup from the fridge, then plated the toast and eggs. When I sat down, I grinned at Jake. “I’m so happy you’re here,” I said. “I can’t believe you’re really in my kitchen and we’re doing this.”

  Jake looked up at me and winked. “I’m happy to be here, babe,” he said. “And this all looks amazing.”

  “I hope it’s good,” I said sweetly. “I’ve never made French toast before.”

  Jake took a big bite of toast, dripping with sauce. He chewed, then bulged his eyes and swallowed quickly.

  “Well? How is it?”

  Jake nodded his head. “Why don’t you, uh, try some, Liv?”

  “If you complain, you’re gonna do all of the cooking around here,” I groused. I cut off a small square of toast, daintily dipped it in the syrup on my plate, put it in my mouth, and chewed. Immediately, sour and tangy flavors filled my mouth. I gagged, spitting out of the mouthful of toast and grabbed my orange juice.

  “Oh my god,” I moaned. “This is terrible!”

  Jake snickered. “You’ve got many wonderful qualities, Liv, but I don’t think cooking is one of them.”

  I glared. “You wanna cook?”

  Jake chuckled. He leaned over and wiped syrup from my lower lip before kissing me. Even though he tasted like my awful attempt at French toast, I didn’t mind. We kissed for a long time before I pulled away, blushing hotly with arousal.

  “Let’s get delivery,” Jake said softly. He reached for my hand and squeezed my fingers. “My treat.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jacob

  Before I moved in with Liv, I had no idea what to expect. Technically, I guess you could say we lived together when we stayed in all of those hotels, but this seemed different. The only other girl I’d ever lived with was my sister, Abby.

  To be honest, at first I wasn’t 100% sure how it would work out. Liv always seemed like the type of girl who really valued her personal space. To my relief, it was working.

  Liv had clearly gone to great lengths to make my stay more comfortable. All of the furniture had been pushed back to allow for easy access with the wheelchair, and there were strong bars on the walls of the bathroom that let me pull myself up and out of my chair. I felt better knowing there wouldn’t be a need to wake Liv at night…at least, not unless something really serious happened.

  I just wished I could say the same about my therapy. The first day I showed up to meet with my therapist, Jamie, I sat in a waiting room full of other people wearing casts and slings and loaded down with crutches and walkers. Liv was at work—her friend Katie had dropped me off at the hospital—and I wished she was there with me, if only so we could make fun of the tacky “art” splashed all over the wall.

  Jamie was a friendly guy in his early twenties, with a big smile and biceps the size of my neck.

  “Hey there, Jacob!” Jamie said. “Welcome to rehab!”

  I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t think I’d hear those words for a long time,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly. “Anyway, thanks for taking me on. Dr. Weiss had a lot of good things to say about you.”

  Jamie grinned. It was true, he’d come highly recommended. “Well shucks,” he said. “That’s so kind of you. Come on, Jake. This way.”

  Jamie wheeled me down a hallway printed with a nauseating green wallpaper and puce carpet. At the end of the hall, there was a room with workout equipment.

  “Man, this is awesome,” I said. I eyed the parallel bars and grinned. “I had no idea I’d be trying to get back on my feet in the first session!”

  Jamie chuckled in a way that made my stomach turn. “Well, not so far,” he said cheerfully. He wheeled me away from the parallel bars to a table that was about chest-high. Jamie reached into his pocket and handed me a red stress ball shaped like a heart.

  “What’s this?” I stared down. “I didn’t hurt my hands.”

  “I know,” Jamie said. “But I’m just gonna try your muscles today—you know, see how you’re holding up. Why not give that a big squeeze for me?”

  I groaned. “You’re kidding,” I muttered. When Jamie didn’t reply, I glared. “This is stupid,” I said. “Do you even know how much I’m paying per hour to be here? Why can’t I try walking on those?” I pointed towards the parallel bars. “That’s the real reason why I’m in rehab.”

  Jamie clicked his teeth and shook his head. “Sorry, partner,” he said in a joking tone that made me want to punch him. “No can do. At least, not until that collarbone of yours heals up. You know Dr. Weiss wouldn’t want you putting any strain on that fracture!”

  “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “It’s not even bothering me anymore.”

  Jamie grinned. “Swell! So why not try squeezing that little ball for me, okay? Try fifteen sets of five seconds each. You think you can manage?”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. The way Jamie talked made him sound like a character on a che
esy kids’ show from the eighties, and I had a feeling that I was wasting my time and my money. But he was the boss—it wasn’t like I could just push myself out of my chair and start showing off.

  The red heart was surprisingly difficult to squeeze. By the third set, I was groaning and sweating. Perspiration was dripping down my forehead and I glared down at my hands so Jamie wouldn’t see how much of a hard time I was having.

  “I know,” Jamie said, as if reading my mind. “It’s not easy. You’re not always used to using those muscles, and it hurts a lot. You’ve got to strengthen your shoulders and collar again,” he said. “And these exercises are going to help you do that.”

  “This burns like hell,” I groaned. I squeezed the ball so tightly that my knuckles and fingers went white. “Why the hell does it have to hurt so goddamned much?”

  Jamie smiled and I resisted the urge to throw the stress ball at his smug face. “You’ll get used to it, I promise,” he said. “Besides, I’m giving you that to take home—I want you practicing all the time, even when you’re not here.”

  Fucking smug asshole, I thought as I strained to squeeze the ball one more time. My shoulder burned like someone had set fire to my body, and I was clenching my jaw so tightly that tendrils of pain were shooting up and down the back of my neck.

  “Alright, easy there,” Jamie said. He patted me on the shoulder and I glared at him. “I know it’s tough,” Jamie said. “I was there myself, you know.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I fucking doubt that,” I muttered.

  “It’s true.” Jamie cleared his throat. He raised an eyebrow. “You wanna hear?”

  I glared at him. “Not unless it involved you coming back from the brink of death and walking again,” I said quietly. “And I somehow doubt that.”

  To my surprise, Jamie’s face turned grave. He nodded slowly. “It’s true,” he said. “Seven years ago, I was surfing the Coral Sea, off the coast of Queensland. A big wave crested over my head and I slipped off board. The board knocked me out, and when I woke up, my back was broken and I was lying on the beach like a dead man.”

  I blinked. “Holy shit.”

  Jamie nodded. “Yep,” he said. He chuckled dryly. “I was told that I’d never walk again. I spent two years in physical therapy before I could even climb out of a chair and take a shit by myself.” He pulled up his shirt and turned, showing a latticework of complicated scar tissue all over his back.

  “But you walk now,” I said slowly. “I can’t even tell you were injured.”

  Jamie pressed the heart-shaped stress ball back into my hands. “Yep,” he said again. “Because I worked hard. And I didn’t listen when the doctors told me not to get my hopes up. I worked my ass off—learning to walk again was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, don’t let anyone tell you different.”

  “I can do it,” I said defiantly. “I’m not scared.”

  Jamie chuckled again. “You should be a little scared. But if I can give you some unsolicited advice, I’m gonna tell you this—don’t let it interfere with your relationships. Stay strong in everything you do, man, and you’ll be fine.”

  I swallowed and nodded before glancing back over towards the parallel bars.

  “Not today,” Jamie said firmly.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled. “This is going to take me five years.”

  “Maybe next week, though,” Jamie said. He put a hand on my shoulder and grinned. “And I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”

  After another grueling half hour of stretching and slow, muscle-building exercises, Jamie wheeled me outside. Katie and Liv were waiting there, leaning against Katie’s car and chatting animatedly. When Liv saw me, she ran over to me beaming. I leaned up to kiss her, savoring the warm taste of coffee and sugar on her lips.

  “Hey, beautiful,” I said, running a hand through her hair.

  “How was it?” Liv looked at me expectantly. “I can’t wait to hear.”

  I groaned. Even though I felt like Jamie and I had made progress during our session, I wasn’t about to tell Liv how difficult it had been to squeeze a fucking stress ball. The pain in my shoulder was getting worse with each passing second, and I was so hungry that I could have eaten a pizza covered with cheeseburgers, gyro meat, and taco salad.

  Katie looked at me sympathetically. “Let’s just take you two home,” she said.

  Liv nodded. “Sounds good,” she said. “Come on, Jake.” Liv wheeled me closer to the car and watched carefully as I hoisted myself into the passenger seat. Her muscles were poised and tensed—ready to leap out and grab me at the first sign of weakness—but I was determined to do this myself.

  I’m not disabled, I thought as I gritted my teeth and swung my broken pelvis into the waiting passenger seat. This is just a temporary setback. That’s all. Everything is going to be fine.

  After Katie dropped Liv and I off, Liv stuck some frozen lasagna in the oven and made us both cups of coffee. I could tell she was dying to know how therapy had gone, but I admired the fact that she was holding back until I was ready to talk.

  “Food’s ready,” Liv chirped. She got up and strolled over to the oven, bending at the waist and sticking her ass out in the air. My cock stirred between my legs and I grinned—at least one thing hadn’t changed since the accident. We’d been having careful sex every few nights… I wanted a lot more, but Liv didn’t want to hurt me, and I couldn’t wait until I was better so I could give her the best sex of her life. I wouldn’t have admitted it to Jamie, but that was one of the biggest reasons why I wanted to heal completely.

  We ate in silence. I could feel the cheesy carbs and savory red sauce soaking up all the cranky hunger in my stomach. After I cleared two plates, I looked at Liv and nodded.

  “What?” she asked.

  It went okay,” I said. I pulled the heart-shaped stress ball out of my pocket and gave it a squeeze. My shoulder burned but I gritted my teeth and did it again.

  Liv smiled tentatively. “I’m glad,” she said. “What did your therapist say?”

  I groaned. “That I have a long road ahead of me,” I said. “Maybe years.”

  Liv reached over and rubbed my shoulder. “You can do it, Jake,” she said softly. Her brown eyes sparkled with love. “I believe in you, babe.”

  I smiled. “Thanks,” I said. “Just don’t get your hopes up anytime soon,” I added. “Don’t want to disappoint you.”

  Liv leaned over and kissed me softly. “You could never disappoint me,” she said, her breath tickling my lips. “I swear.”

  “That’s all I need then,” I said with a grin. But god damn, I still hope I’ll be able to walk again.

  Liv reached for my hand and squeezed my fingers with her own. “I know it’ll happen,” she said confidently, almost like she’d just read my mind. “Just give it some time.”

  Yeah, I thought. Give it some time. I just hope she’s right.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Olivia

  It may sound a little naïve on my part, but I’d assumed that going to therapy every day would have really lifted Jake’s spirits. At first, he seemed pretty determined to do the work, but then toward the end of the first month, his spirits were drooping so low that I wanted to do something really special for him to cheer him up.

  “I just don’t know what,” I whined to Katie. We were sitting at Katie’s new favorite bar, the Pearl Cove, sipping margaritas while we were waiting for Lauren to show up. Jake was at home, napping. I’d asked him to come, but he said he’d rather not.

  He declined most of my invitations out these days. He didn’t like the way people looked at him in the wheelchair.

  “You’ll think of something,” Katie said. “Does he like mini golf?”

  I snorted. “I have no idea,” I said as I took a long sip of my drink. “But I have a feeling he wouldn’t be thrilled about it being stuck in a chair. He feels self-conscious enough already.”

  We were at Target last week shopping and this woman recognized him—she cam
e up and said he was a real inspiration for disabled people.”

  Katie wrinkled her nose. “That sounds pretty bad,” she said. “I bet he didn’t take it well.”

  I let out a low whistle. “No. No, he did not.”

  “Well, what else?”

  “I thought about a nice dinner somewhere, but Jake hates getting in and out of the car,” I said. “Especially at restaurants, he feels like everyone stares at him. They don’t really, but I get why he feels that way.”

  Katie nodded. “I’m out of ideas,” she said. “But you’re creative, Liv. You’ll figure something out.”

  “I hope so.” I took another long sip of my drink.

  “So, how is work?”

  I grinned. “I actually love it,” I said. “As soon as Dr. Miller found out how much I like animals, he started asking me to be in the room and help out when they did minor stuff, like vaccinations and stuff. He asked me if I’d consider going to school to be a veterinary technician—and on their dime!”

  “Holy shit, that’s awesome!” Katie took her glass and clinked it against mine. “Liv, that’s really cool.”

  I smiled. “I know,” I said. “It sounds weird, but I actually enjoy the work.”

  “I bet getting out of the house is real nice,” Katie said dryly. “Especially if Jake’s moping around.”

  “It’s not that,” I said quickly. “It’s just…I don’t know. I kind of like being independent and providing for myself. It’s fun, and I love being around all of the animals. Yesterday, this girl brought in two baby bunnies and they were so cute.”

  “They chew on everything and poop everywhere,” Katie warned.

  “I didn’t say I was thinking about getting one!” I burst out laughing. “They were just cute, that’s all.”

  Just then, Lauren rushed over to us. She was carrying two huge shopping bags. A new pair of designer sunglasses was perched on top of her head, which I noticed had recently undergone a drastic change of color.

  “Holy shit, you look great,” I said, admiring her outfit from head to toe. “What’s all this?”