Read A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1) for Free Online Page B
Authors: Lilly Black
thought that I am just something to be conquered...or held and broken, which I find as unbearable as the prospect of letting him get away without at least giving him a shot.
And why not? If he fails, I won't care if he moves on, but as I contemplate it, I know deep down the concern that he will fail isn't the problem. It's the fear that he'll succeed. If he does, I'll fall in love with him, and then when I ultimately lose him to his next conquest, I'll be back to square one, knowing undeniably what I am missing. That would be unbearable.
August 26
Nicole's gone when I wake up late Monday morning to find an enormous bouquet of pink roses sitting on the small, cafe-style table in our eat-in kitchen. They're gorgeous, but he got it wrong. Roses are not my favorite flowers, and pink? Seriously?
You don't know everything about me, now do you, Playboy? I think to myself as I reach for the card. As expected, the roses are from Cain. Funny thing is, they're not for me.
Nicole,
Thanks for your help. I couldn't have done it without you, apparently.
Cain
Though part of me was pissed that he wasn't respecting the boundaries of our "friendship", another part of me was still smiling ear to ear with her heart all aflutter, but now? Now all of me is disappointed, so consumed by it that I jump when the doorbell rings.
It's a delivery man with more flowers. I answer it, expecting that Cain has sent another bouquet to Nicole to say: See, Evan? See what you're missing? I do see, and despite that I am not a hearts and flowers kind of girl, I want the over-the-top display to be mine.
"Miss Lucien?" the delivery guy asks, and when I nod, he hands me a heavy vase of calla lilies. These are my favorite flowers, and there must be at least five dozen elegant, white blooms with only occasional sprigs of waxy, twisted greenery. I read the card.
Evan,
I look f orward to a long and close fr i endship with you . I be l ieve these lilies are your fa v orit e . I'm sure they will become a favorite of mine .
Cain
The wording seems stiff, like there's something off about it that I can't quite put my finger on. I read it again and realize that three words are typed in a different font than the rest.
You are mine, they say.
And you are relentless , Cain Ballantyne , I think, beaming as I move the bouquet carefully to the nightstand by my bed. Lying down beside them, I text him a quick thank you for the flowers.
Glad you liked them. Do you have plans this evening?
The lilies were lovely , but I thought we agreed just to be friends, I text back .
Friends don't make plans together?
I have to work tonight, I send.
I could stop in for a drink.
It's a public place.
You're cruel, he says.
I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that.
I didn't say I didn't like it. I'll see you around seven.
Don't be late, I text without even thinking.
Yes, Ma'am. His response makes me laugh because I can hear the sarcasm in his words just as clearly as if he had spoken them. I decide to let it be the last word for now, but I'm suddenly notably impatient for seven o'clock to roll around.
What am I doing?
August 26, Evening
I clock in at work to find an especially slow Monday. The seconds tick away so slowly that I can almost hear the click of each one as if the digital clock behind the bar were an old school wind-up, but when the little, glowing, red numbers finally change to 7:00 pm, I see the elevator doors open. Cain steps out, and I'm instantly exhilarated.
"Right on time," I say as he approaches the bar.
"Does that please you?" he asks.
"Cain..." I start to chastise him, but I realize I don't want to. "Yes, it...pleases me."
"But we need to talk?" he asks.
"We do," I admit, apologetically.
"It's really slow tonight," Cain hints, and I can't argue that.
"Dave! It's dead in here. I'm giving Nicole the bar. Call me back in if it gets busy," I call out to
And why not? If he fails, I won't care if he moves on, but as I contemplate it, I know deep down the concern that he will fail isn't the problem. It's the fear that he'll succeed. If he does, I'll fall in love with him, and then when I ultimately lose him to his next conquest, I'll be back to square one, knowing undeniably what I am missing. That would be unbearable.
August 26
Nicole's gone when I wake up late Monday morning to find an enormous bouquet of pink roses sitting on the small, cafe-style table in our eat-in kitchen. They're gorgeous, but he got it wrong. Roses are not my favorite flowers, and pink? Seriously?
You don't know everything about me, now do you, Playboy? I think to myself as I reach for the card. As expected, the roses are from Cain. Funny thing is, they're not for me.
Nicole,
Thanks for your help. I couldn't have done it without you, apparently.
Cain
Though part of me was pissed that he wasn't respecting the boundaries of our "friendship", another part of me was still smiling ear to ear with her heart all aflutter, but now? Now all of me is disappointed, so consumed by it that I jump when the doorbell rings.
It's a delivery man with more flowers. I answer it, expecting that Cain has sent another bouquet to Nicole to say: See, Evan? See what you're missing? I do see, and despite that I am not a hearts and flowers kind of girl, I want the over-the-top display to be mine.
"Miss Lucien?" the delivery guy asks, and when I nod, he hands me a heavy vase of calla lilies. These are my favorite flowers, and there must be at least five dozen elegant, white blooms with only occasional sprigs of waxy, twisted greenery. I read the card.
Evan,
I look f orward to a long and close fr i endship with you . I be l ieve these lilies are your fa v orit e . I'm sure they will become a favorite of mine .
Cain
The wording seems stiff, like there's something off about it that I can't quite put my finger on. I read it again and realize that three words are typed in a different font than the rest.
You are mine, they say.
And you are relentless , Cain Ballantyne , I think, beaming as I move the bouquet carefully to the nightstand by my bed. Lying down beside them, I text him a quick thank you for the flowers.
Glad you liked them. Do you have plans this evening?
The lilies were lovely , but I thought we agreed just to be friends, I text back .
Friends don't make plans together?
I have to work tonight, I send.
I could stop in for a drink.
It's a public place.
You're cruel, he says.
I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that.
I didn't say I didn't like it. I'll see you around seven.
Don't be late, I text without even thinking.
Yes, Ma'am. His response makes me laugh because I can hear the sarcasm in his words just as clearly as if he had spoken them. I decide to let it be the last word for now, but I'm suddenly notably impatient for seven o'clock to roll around.
What am I doing?
August 26, Evening
I clock in at work to find an especially slow Monday. The seconds tick away so slowly that I can almost hear the click of each one as if the digital clock behind the bar were an old school wind-up, but when the little, glowing, red numbers finally change to 7:00 pm, I see the elevator doors open. Cain steps out, and I'm instantly exhilarated.
"Right on time," I say as he approaches the bar.
"Does that please you?" he asks.
"Cain..." I start to chastise him, but I realize I don't want to. "Yes, it...pleases me."
"But we need to talk?" he asks.
"We do," I admit, apologetically.
"It's really slow tonight," Cain hints, and I can't argue that.
"Dave! It's dead in here. I'm giving Nicole the bar. Call me back in if it gets busy," I call out to
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