My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend - Max Monroe Page 0,81
embarrassed laugh leaves my throat. “I thought you still had more candidates to interview and that I wouldn’t hear from you until next week…”
“After interviewing you, I decided it wasn’t necessary. I know you’ll be a perfect fit.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
“I don’t even know what to say.” I lift my hand to cover my mouth.
“Well, I’m hoping you’ll say you accept.”
“Of course, I accept!” I exclaim a little too loudly, and I cringe. “Ugh. Sorry. I’m a little excited, but I promise I’ll work on my volume control before my first day at the office.”
He chuckles softly. “I don’t consider that a bad thing, Ms. Willis. And let me be the first person to welcome you aboard. I have a feeling you’re going to do great things here.”
By the time we end the call, I know I’ll be starting with the next round of orientees next month, and that a woman by the name of Ruth in HR will be sending a whole packet of information to my apartment in the next week or so.
I also know that I got the fucking job. At Beacon House.
Oh. My. Gawd!
I toss my phone down onto my mattress, jump off my bed, and dance around my bedroom in my underwear. Booty-shaking. Twerking. The robot. I’m doing all of the moves.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” My voice bounces off the walls, and I throw myself back onto my bed and squeal. “I don’t have to work with Bruce anymore!”
I feel exhilarated and insane and, hell, I need to tell someone!
I snag my phone back off the bed, and without even thinking, I find Milo’s name in my text message inbox.
With one tap of my finger, I pull up our most recent conversation and, just as I start to type out a message to tell him the good news, the reality of our situation crashes down on my shoulders and ties a firm knot inside my chest.
Fuck.
I reread his message from earlier this morning, the one that asked me if he could come over and talk.
I reread my brush-off of a response.
And then, the memories of last night flood into my mind.
It was quite possibly the worst night of my life.
And, yeah, that’s one of those things people tend to use in dramatic generalizations.
Flat tire on the way home from work? Worst night of my life.
My DVR didn’t record the Project Runway Finale? Worst night of my life.
Those Taco Bell chalupas gave me the shits? Worst night of my life.
I can attest to experiencing at least two of the above.
But I can also guarantee that last night was, in fact, The. Worst. Night. Of. My. Life.
A girl doesn’t get naked, throw herself at the man she’s in love with, beg him to take her virginity, and then, have said man tell her he “can’t do it” without it actually being an experience she wishes a lobotomy could cure.
I don’t know where it all went wrong.
We danced. We kissed like teenagers. I got naked. We kissed some more. I touched Milo’s penis. Then, boom. Things took a turn. One minute we were full throttle, and the next he was standing across the room, tucking his cock back into his jeans, and apologizing for not being able to have sex with me.
“I’m sorry” is the very last thing you want to hear when you’re ready to turn in your V-card to the man of your dreams. The man you are head over heels in love with.
Apparently, my biggest fear was actually my reality.
What I’m feeling is one-sided. I’m both feet, all in, ready to take the next step, and Milo’s had one foot out the door the entire time.
The mere thought of him and what happened and the awful realization that you can’t just fall out of love with someone even if they don’t love you back has tears filling my eyes.
Now, I remember why I wanted to stay in bed all the livelong day.
But when I spot the time on my phone, I realize I have to get it together. I have to swallow back all of my emotions and get ready to head to Wendy’s Bridal.
Today isn’t about me. Or my fucking feelings.
It’s about Sadie. Evan’s fiancée. My soon-to-be sister-in-law.
It’s about watching her slip on her wedding dress one last time before her big day.
With a deep, cavernous breath, I force some much-needed oxygen in and out of my lungs and command myself to walk into the bathroom and hop in the shower.