Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 53233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
“Sorry,” I say, as I cringe with embarrassment. “I wasn’t ready. No one has ever given me a kiss hello.”
He gives me a questioning look as one corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. “You want me to try again?”
Yes. No. I don’t fucking know. I’ve felt off-balance since we slept together Friday night. I can’t tell him that, though, so instead, I nod.
He cups my cheek in his hand and bends slightly, this kiss a little longer. He tastes like sweet tea and smells of a light, fresh aftershave. After the kiss, he leans his forehead against mine for a second.
Shit. A cheek cupper and a forehead leaner? I’m so screwed. Olivier somehow knows how to do every last little thing that makes me melt—both dirty and sweet.
“How has your weekend been since Friday night?” he asks me, pulling out my chair for me and hanging my coat on the back of it. He goes around the table to take his own seat.
There’s been a weekend since Friday night? I haven’t been able to do or think about much of anything since Olivier blew my mind in bed. All I think about is his hands on me, his whispered words of affection in my ear as he fucked me and the way he couldn’t stop smiling when we were saying goodbye before he left.
He’s a shrewd, successful billionaire. I spent a lot of time reading about him online yesterday, and he has a reputation for being tough, but fair. He has friends who have won Nobel prizes and Oscars. He has an actual TED talk, about how leaders can motivate the people who work for them.
And this man, who could be anywhere in the world, with anyone he wanted, looked at me the other night like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He texted me yesterday morning and said he couldn’t stop thinking about me. It’s a lot to process. Especially after Aiden told me he cheated on me because I’d let myself go.
“It’s been good,” I say, which isn’t a lie.
I just won’t mention that it’s been good because Friday night we had the best sex of my life and I’m dying to do it again as soon as possible.
“How about your weekend?” I ask.
He shrugs. “The usual. I tried to get Giselle to hang out with me yesterday but I’m just her lame old dad, so I couldn’t convince her to go to the game with me.”
“The Blaze game?”
“Yeah, we won 5–1.”
“Congratulations.”
“I can’t really take credit, but thanks.”
I smile at him. “Hey, you sign the paychecks. I think you get to take some credit.”
“Do you like hockey?”
I think about how to answer since he clearly loves it enough to own a team. “I don’t dislike it, but sports have never been my thing, both watching or playing. I have the athletic talent of a rock.”
Our server comes and we quickly decide on a pizza to share.
“So, are you feeling okay?” Olivier asks me, his expression uncertain.
“Of course, why? Do I look bad?”
I smooth out my hair and wipe my fingers under my eyes, hoping I don’t have any smeared makeup on my face.
“You look beautiful, as always,” he says. “I was talking about actual feelings…are you okay on that front?”
I narrow my eyes, confused. “As far as I know?”
He gives me the boyish grin that makes my stomach flip every time. “I was just expecting you to come in here with a prepared statement about how Friday night was a mistake and you just want us to be friends.”
I nod, looking thoughtful. “You know, that’s a good point. Maybe we should just be friends.”
“Too late for that.” He winks and reaches for my hand across the table.
His hand is big and warm. Looking at it makes me think about the way his hands felt on me the other night, which makes me warm all over.
“You’re blushing,” Olivier says.
“Oh…it’s hot in here.”
“Is it?” He shakes his head doubtfully. “Or are you just thinking about the other night?”
I sigh heavily and clear my throat. “Anyway…the other night was spontaneous, but I liked it.”
“I liked it, too.”
“I mean, I liked that I just…did it. For once. I spend a lot of time thinking about things sometimes. Too much time.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I guess…as much as I know I shouldn’t, I let things people have said and done in the past stay with me.”
He nods. “What has someone said that gives you pause about me?”
I turn to look out the window, trying to form my thoughts into words.
“My parents would tell you they don’t think they’re superior human beings because they have money, but they do. My grandma does, too. They think they’re harder working and more deserving than people who struggle. Which is bullshit because my parents haven’t worked hard a day in their entire lives. They were both born into privileged families. I wouldn’t want them to know this, but they embarrass me sometimes. They’re so self-absorbed. Ungrateful. My life now has given me so much more appreciation for everything, really. Being able to pay all my bills. Being grateful for the things I have. Flowers in bloom. Sunshine. Laughter. Small things.”