Bad Engagement (Billionaire's Club #10) - Elise Faber Page 0,37

I talked to my mom. I knew it was an insane thing to do. I mean, I totally get that. But then I asked him, and he said yes, and we agreed to go to dinner on Thursday, and he was late because he was doing a procedure on a guinea pig with a heart problem, and then he held my hand, and we walked to the pier, and then he kissed me, and it was hands-down the best kiss of my life.” She gulped down more wine. “I like him, Heidi. A lot.”

“But does he like you?”

Ouch.

Kate dropped her stare to the granite, taking in the flecks of silver amongst the pale blue, blinking hard.

Does he like you?

That was the crux of all of her fears, wasn’t it?

Did he like her, really? And if he did like her genuinely, would that like last? And if it lasted, would that lasting be days or weeks or months before he betrayed—

Heidi’s hand covered hers. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she murmured.

Kate’s throat burned, but she squeezed out. “I know.”

“No,” Heidi said, “I don’t think you do.” Her friend tugged the glass out of Kate’s hands, gripped her wrists tight. “You are one of the best people I know. You’re smart and funny and kind . . . even though you have a weird redheaded connection thing with Hermione Granger.” Kate snorted. “You do,” Heidi said, lips tipped up at the edges. “But I love you, and you’re my fucking best friend, so believe me when I say that there is no person on this planet who deserves to have everything they want more than you.”

“A big but is coming,” Kate muttered.

“Yes,” Heidi said. “Except, the but is that I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Neither did she. It was why she kept throwing up barriers between herself and Jaime even though she really liked him. It was why her mind kept pulling her back even though her heart continued to encourage her further.

“He says he was drumming up the courage to ask me on a date when I messaged. That he took the opportunity to get to know me. He says he wants more dates and wants to prove that I can trust him.” She sighed. “He says he knows that takes time, but that he can be patient. And—” Her gaze flicked to Heidi’s. “He brought me breakfast and paid attention enough to know that my favorite breakfast is from Molly’s, that I love mochas. And he’s the oldest of four and is great with babies—he even managed to get Lacy to not have a meltdown for almost a half hour. Then he handled my mom and dad and brother and sister with aplomb and kindness. And he takes care of a rooster named Barry, who walks on a leash.”

Chest heaving, she pulled out of Heidi’s grip, shoved her hair out of her face.

“And I’m fucking terrified,” she said, eyes burning. “Because I like him, too. Because this was just a stupid lie, and I hardly know him. Except, I do know him.” She thumped a fist against her chest, just over her heart. “I know him here. From the moment I met him, it was like I had this connection to him. And not even all physical, because of course he’s beautiful and sexy, anyone could see that. But because he-he’s—”

“Different.”

She glanced up at Heidi. “Yes. He’s different.”

“And you don’t want to get hurt again.”

“I’ve jumped into things with men too many times in my life, Heidi. I’ve thought they were all different, that they were all good, and when they didn’t work out, I thought that it was just a matter of finding a man who could be the one. That I just needed to keep looking.” She closed her eyes. “Then I realized that lightning doesn’t strike in the same place over and over again. Then I realized it was me. I was the thing that connected us, and I’m the thing that’s wrong in every relationship I’ve had.” Another thump of her fist to her chest. “I’m the messed up one that makes everything implode.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

Kate was so far down her proverbial mental rabbit hole that it took her a few seconds to realize what Heidi had said.

“What?” she exclaimed.

She’d just poured her heart out to her best friend, exposed her vulnerable underbelly, and confessed all of the twisted and sad things she’d been feeling, and Heidi had just called it all bullshit.

“I’m—”

Heidi’s