Page 39 of Billion Dollar Mistake

We laugh and continue eating the starters.

After a couple of minutes, I look back at him and he seems satisfied. I hear this rumble in his chest.

“You got some dip on your lip.”

My hand wipes at my mouth. He’s watching with a dark, intense stare. It makes me flush.

“Did I get it?”

He shakes his head. “No. Come here.” He leans forward and I mimic his position. My eyes watch his drop to my lips. His own are parted and he’s enthralled with my mouth.

His fingers tilt my chin up, giving him better access. I welcome his touch on my skin. My breath hitches the moment his thumb swipes over my top lip. The brush is rough enough that it drags my lip.

His thumb pauses at the corner of my mouth and I think he’s about to pull back so I lean into his touch begging for more.

He’s still so fascinated with my mouth that my silent plea causes him to follow my request. He drags his thumb over my bottom lip slowly, as if he’s memorizing the feel of it. My eyes don’t leave his face. And if we weren’t in a restaurant, I’d let him kiss me. He drops his hand from my face when his phone pings. Quickly, he retrieves it and types frantically on it.

I’m left panting and craving more of his touch. “Is everything okay?” I breathe.

“Yep.” He grabs his glass and drinks.

His eyes return to mine. A blaze staring back at me.

The way he’s drinking, I can’t help the shiver that runs down my spine.

“I had something to ask you.”

“Hmm. What’s that?” I ask, my voice returning to normal.

“Would you be interested in the boxing weigh-in at Madison Square?”

My mouth opens and closes. I know what he’s insinuating, and it would be a dream. He’s given me so much today that it’s making my head spin. “Those tickets sold out in minutes.”

He grins proudly. “You free at 3?”

I’m taken aback. “You’re serious.”

He nods. “Yes.”

While I truly am grateful for the thoughtful gift, it’s making me uneasy. “Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t accept that.”

His brows furrow. “Why not?”

I try to get him to understand how I’m not the usual girl who expects a guy to buy me lavish gifts. “You don’t need to pay for my ticket. I can afford it.”

“No, I take you, I pay,” he insists, making it sound simple.

I scratch at my temple, searching for the right words. “Your generosity is touching, but I’m not comfortable receiving multiple expensive gifts without contributing.”

His stern expression softens. “I don’t mean to make you feel that way. Maybe you can buy the merch?”

I smile in response. “Deal.”

It’s not about spending the same. I just don’t want to feel like a transaction or that I can’t afford anything. My new job will bring in more income. It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s certainly an improvement.

He dips his chin as he grabs more food and eats.

“Have you been before?” I ask.

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