Billion Dollar Beast - Olivia Hayle Page 0,68

grip the lapels of his jacket and pull myself up on my tiptoes. There’s a glimpse of his face, set in angry lines, before I close my eyes and press my lips to his.

So we’re not good with words.

But I’d like to see him lie with his lips.

His mouth is furious under mine, echoing the same anger in my own. His hands grip my hips and I’m pulled roughly against the full length of his body.

Yes, I think. You don’t want to go back to being nothing at all. I know you don’t. Stop being afraid.

Nick’s hand rises up to bury itself in my hair and then he’s fighting me for control of the kiss, his lips opening mine, his tongue sweeping in.

I surrender to his lead and slide my hands inside his suit jacket, along the hard planes of his chest, warm to the touch even through his shirt.

The sound of the door opening breaks us apart.

And standing there, shock on his face, is Cole, and behind him, a very curious Ethan.

To his credit, my brother doesn’t scream or yell. He doesn’t flip out. He goes very white instead.

“What,” he says softly, “the hell is going on here?”

Nick steps away from me. A glance at his face tells me he’ll be absolutely no help here. If Cole is shocked, Nick looks struck. The blacks of his eyes are flat.

“Cole,” I ask, “please. Please, just give us a moment…”

He tears his gaze away from his best friend to me. And whatever he sees in my eyes is enough, apparently, because he reaches out and shuts the door to his study. The door slams behind him.

The room is drenched in silence.

Nick bends over Cole’s desk, his hands braced along the edge. He looks frozen in place—a marble statue of misery. Atlas punished, I think. Prometheus bound.

The tension is clear in every line of his body.

“He’ll understand,” I say. “He will. There’s nothing to—”

“He won’t. Please, Blair. Tell him whatever you like, but just… leave me alone.”

I don’t understand his emotions. There’s no clear path for me to approach them, no way forward, no obvious entry point. I take a careful step closer.

“Why do you do that? Why do you push everyone away?” I ask. And then stronger, when there’s no answer. “It’s easier to be an asshole than to have someone know you and walk away, right? Better to never give them a reason to get close in the first place.”

His shoulders heave with one strong breath. “Go back to your friends, Blair,” he says quietly. “We’re done here.”

The same words he spoke to me at the poker game, all those years ago. Tears prick at my eyes. What have I done that’s so horrible? Caring about him?

I wish I didn’t, so I didn’t have to feel this way right now. Glad he can’t see my face, I turn around and walk out of the study.

The door doesn’t slam behind me. That would take more anger than I have at the moment. It closes with a soft creak, like a whimper, the sound echoing in my head as I race down the hallway.

23

Nick

The knock on my front door is heavy. If it hadn’t been made from steel, it would probably bear marks.

“Nick!”

The voice is familiar. The fury in it is not. I run a hand over my face and contemplate not opening. Running from my problems has always been a much, much nicer option.

But it’s also a short-term solution.

So I open the front door. Cole bursts through, the look in his eyes worse than a punch to the gut. Physical violence would have been preferable to that look. I’d left his party without seeing him, not wanting to throw a scene at his cozy, family-filled gathering.

But I’d known he’d come and find me soon enough.

“How could you?” he spits. “My sister?”

There are no words I can say to make it better.

None at all.

“I know,” I say.

“Her explanation didn’t make sense,” he grinds out. “So maybe you can explain it to me? Because right now it’s looking really fucking bad.”

The image of Blair, upset and confused, trying to explain us to her brother explodes in my mind. And all because I hadn’t answered her calls out of a fear that she’d tell me we were over. That she quit the job and planned to cut me out of her life.

“I don’t know if I can,” I say. Without conscious thought, I take in his stance, his closed fists. My legs brace against