Billion Dollar Chance - Linnea May Page 0,9

were still in contact with her,” Aston comments, sounding disappointed. “How come you never told us?”

“I’m not ‘in contact’ with her,” I argue. “I just… ran into her a couple of days ago. At a work meeting.”

All three of them shake their heads in unison, while I wish I could turn back time, just a few minutes, so Ella wouldn’t ruin our reunion. Or a couple of days, so I could make sure that our encounter wouldn’t turn into a total disaster.

“Is she married?” Aston wants to know.

His question catches me off guard. Was Ella wearing a ring on her finger? I don’t think so. But it’s not like I looked for one. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me.

“I don’t know. Why does that matter?” I ask back.

“Oh, you know why!” Logan exclaims. “Come on, you’re clearly still hung up on her. You have been ever since you guys broke up—which is why you’re still single up to this day.”

“As are you!” I retort, pointing a finger at him. “And you! And you!”

My accusing gesture moves from one guy to the next, as I try to deflect attention away from myself.

“If you’re saying that there’s something wrong with me because I am still single, well, just look at yourself,” I bark. “All of you.”

Much to my surprise, my attempt at deflection works like a charm as the boys start chatting about the advantages of single life, while I get to drown my anger in a few swigs of Bourbon.

I try not to think about Ella—which would be a lot easier if her face wouldn’t pop up before my eyes every time I’m left alone with my thoughts. She hasn’t changed much. She’s still the same peerless beauty she was back then, with eyes so green that they almost appear surreal, her porcelain skin, kissed with faint freckles around her cheek bones and that long, deep red wavy hair that ensnares me like no other. Even her angry and hateful spewing didn’t stop me from wanting her. If anything, it only made things worse, because it’s that exact fire that mesmerized me back then—until it burned a hole into my chest.

Logan is right about one thing: Ella is bad news. She’s flaky, irresponsible and self-centered. I should be glad that she’s out of my life.

There’s a reason I have been single for most of the time since we graduated from college, but it’s not because I’m so hung up on Ella. I just never met anyone who could hold my interest for more than a few nights. I used to enjoy the hunt, the feeling of accomplishment once the girl becomes yours, if only for a night. The excitement of a new set of eyes looking up at me while plush lips wrap around my cock with that fresh and hot desire only a first time can grant you—it was all I craved for the longest time.

But even the hottest flings got stale after a while, and the blinding glitter started to fade like the eyeshadow of my latest prey.

I’m sure Aston would agree. Unlike us three, his status as a lone wolf isn’t exactly voluntary. He absentmindedly turns the tumbler in his hands, watching the flames in front of us.

“Wouldn’t it be nice, I mean, in general,” he murmurs without looking at us, “to share all of this with someone special?”

He makes a wide gesture through his extensive courtyard and the multi-million dollar townhouse behind us.

“And to be able to leave it to someone when you die?” he adds. “Like, a wife, kids—a family. An heir.”

Logan is quick to respond with a heartfelt: “Fuck no!”

Chase and I, however, remain silent. I try to catch his gaze, but he evades mine, keeping his eyes locked on the flames while wearing a pensive expression on his face. Whatever he is thinking right now, he’s not willing to share it with the group.

Unlike me.

“Maybe we need a new pact,” I hear myself say, before I can think twice.

All heads turn to me; something I wasn’t prepared for.

“What do you mean?” Chase implores, while Aston sits up in his chair, leaning forward with interest.

“I don’t know,” I ramble, unsure what to say. “It worked last time. The pact, I mean. Maybe we should…”

I pause and low-key hope that one of them jumps in for the rescue, but no one does. All of them are staring at me, waiting for me to elaborate on my thought.

“I mean, let’s be rational about this.” I try