Billion Dollar Beast - Olivia Hayle Page 0,55
with a sigh. “The ultimate plot device. It was a bad idea from the start.”
“Well, Nemorino thought he didn’t have a choice,” I say, sympathetic for the main character’s struggles with unrequited love.
“There’s always a choice,” Skye says. “He could simply have explained to her what he felt.”
“As any self-respecting man would,” my brother agrees. He tucks Skye in closer to his body. She responds in kind, glancing up at him. The quick look is filled with so much emotion that for the first time in ages I have to look away.
“We’re going to head home,” he says. “Charles should be here any second with the car. Who wants to be dropped off?”
Nick shakes his head. “Thanks, but I have plans.”
“All right. Thanks for coming.” Cole reaches out and gives Nick a slap on the shoulder. “See you on Thursday, right?”
“Yeah. You won’t win this one, I’m telling you.”
Cole’s grin is wide. “Well in that case, I’m not listening. Blair? Going home?”
“Yes.” Nick might be staying out, but I’m not. The night has been exciting enough as it is, and the last thing I want is to hang around in the hopes of being included in his late-night plans. Besides, it’s not like we’ve defined anything, right? Going home is a good plan.
Apparently it wasn’t.
No sooner have I closed the front door behind me than there’s a furious knocking on it. Nick is there, his jaw working. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
He pushes his way into my apartment. “Going home, when I had a plan for us after.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “How was I supposed to know that?”
“Because I said, I have plans.”
Dear God, save me from the idiocy of men. “And that was code somehow? When had we decided that?”
He tugs at the collar of his shirt and sinks down onto my couch. His arm drapes over a score of decorative pillows but for once, he doesn’t scowl at them, keeping his gaze fixed on me. “So your crush never went away,” he says.
“That’s what this is about?”
His hand at his collar tugs sharply and the bowtie comes undone, the tails hanging down his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me when I asked you the first time?”
“You mean after my brother made it into a joke?” I sit down on the arm of the sofa, wrapping my arms around myself. “Why do you think?”
“Damn it.” He runs a hand over his hair.
“Does it matter that much?” I have to give it to my voice—it’s deceptively calm.
“Yes. Because… if you’re emotionally involved, I’m going to hurt you somehow. I always do.” He leans his head against the back of the couch. “Fucking up relationships is what I do.”
I lower my voice. “Why would you think that?”
The gaze he sends me is scathing, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s clear it’s not me he’s angry at. “History tends to repeat itself.”
“It doesn’t have to.” I slide down onto the couch next to him. “And you know, you’re not responsible for my emotions. Only I am.”
His hand reaches out and lands on my knee. The silk of my dress has risen up and the scars on his palm tickle against my skin. “You say that now.”
“And I’ll say it again, even when it’s painful. So I’ve admired you from afar for a long time.” I shrug, even though I’m feeling anything but blasé. “So what?”
His thumb rubs a small circle on my skin. “So I don’t want you to feel taken advantage of. That I offered something I don’t know if I can live up to.”
This is too much. I hitch my dress up and climb onto him, straddling him just like I had earlier this evening. Mere hours ago, perhaps, but it feels like a different night entirely.
“When did you get so morose?” I demand. “Trust me enough to let me look out for my own emotions and best interest, okay? And right now, I want to be with you.”
His large hands come up to grip my waist. With his head still resting on the back of the couch, Nick’s eyes are laden with intensity.
It’s worth it. Anything that might come after this is worth it, just to be looked at like that by him.
“Say that last bit again,” he says.
“I want to be with you?”
“Yes.”
I smile. “Asking for praise, Nick. How unlike you. But okay.” I press my lips to his cheek. “I want to be with you.”
“Again.” His hands find the hem of my dress and stroke