Billion Dollar Beast - Olivia Hayle Page 0,61

her knee up even harder.

“That’s it.” I give her a gentle push and she stumbles back, eyes on mine. “Now jab. Hit me. Come on.”

She does, and hit by hit, the tension in her face drains away. “I wish I could actually do this to all the critics.”

“How violent of you.”

Her smile is a glorious thing. Wide and true and tinged with just a hint of wickedness. “We all have hidden sides.”

I sink down into my own fighter stance, still keeping the pillows held high. “Take it all out, then, so when you do face them, you’re not angry anymore. You’re indifferent.”

“Is that why you fight?” she says, panting now.

Not where I want this conversation to go. I dodge her blow and question alike, sidestepping. “Can’t keep up?”

She frowns and follows my parrying, trying to reach the pillows as I move them higher or sideways. “Stop moving.”

“Most targets don’t stand still for you.”

“You never do,” she says. “These punches are for you, now.”

“Oh?”

“For ignoring me for so many years.” Punch, punch, punch. “For all the little comments.” Punch, punch. “For making it clear to everyone, all the time, how much you disliked me.”

I frown at her over the fringed hem of a pillow. She’s still smiling, and her voice is teasing, but the words are true. They send another wave of guilt barreling through me. Throughout the years, I’ve always told myself that pushing her away was for the best. Not once had I really thought it through from her perspective.

One more deficiency to add to my ocean of flaws.

Blair reaches up for an uppercut but grimaces as her hand makes contact with the pillow. Dropping out of her stance, she clutches her fist to her chest, head bent. “Damn.”

“What happened?” I drop the pillows. “Did you hurt yourself?”

That’s when she strikes. Her not-so-injured-after-all hand strikes out and collides with my upper arm. It only smarts for a moment. “Aha!”

Her grin fades as she sees my expression. I’m keeping it carefully blank, knowing that my dark stare usually unnerves people.

“Nick?”

I attack. I bend my head and wrap my arms around her waist. It’s no effort at all to lift her up and throw her over my shoulder.

“Now you’re in for it,” I say.

Her laughter rains down my back, her hands gripping at my skin. “It was an accident!”

“Like hell it was.” I throw her onto the couch and I’m on her a second later, tugging at the clasp of her robe. “This needs to go.”

She gives me a blinding smile as she arches her back to let me slip it off her. “I’m not objecting,” she says. “Naked boxing sounds so much more fun.”

“When it’s with you, yes.” I pause with her beneath me, my hands on her waist. “Launch your business,” I tell her. “When it’s right. And tell Cole. He’ll be overjoyed.”

“I will, in time.”

“Good.” Bending down, I press my lips to hers. She sighs against my mouth and I surrender to her sweetness. What’s a man to do, when confronted with this absolute goodness?

I’m kissing down her neck when the bell to her intercom rings. Someone’s downstairs.

I groan. “Did you order food?”

“No.” She presses a kiss to my cheek and slides out from underneath me. “Someone’s probably calling the wrong apartment. It happens often.”

“It does?” I watch shamelessly as she walks naked to the panel by her front door. Confidence now radiates from her.

“Yes,” she says. “My neighbor’s mother often visits. She’s seventy-eight. Wrong buttons get pressed.”

But when she presses down the answer button, the voice that rings out is alarmingly familiar to the both of us.

“Ready or not, I’m coming up, Lairy,” Cole announces. “I have a surprise, and it can’t wait.”

20

Blair

I’m frozen by the intercom. There’s no way I can refuse. No way at all, not convincingly. Illness? Wanting to sleep in? Cole won’t accept any of those. I’ve barged into his home enough times that he’ll want revenge.

“Blair?”

His voice propels me into action. “Come on up!” I chirp manically, pressing the button to let him in downstairs.

“What the hell?” Nick is bending down to grab pillows, throwing them haphazardly back on the couch. “Why did you let him in?”

“What else should I have done?” I grab my robe and pull it tightly around myself, double-knotting the belt. “He drove me home yesterday! He knows I’m here!”

“Fucking hell.” Nick’s face is the picture of quiet fury. He strides into my bedroom and snaps up his clothing, balling it against his chest. “I’ll be in your