Page 47 of The Billionaire Experience

“I…I don’t know. At first I was protecting myself, and then I was protecting the agreement we’d made, and now…” She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. “I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

His anger dissipated when the shine of tears filled her green eyes. Sure, the news had caught him off guard, but in no way was it a dealbreaker. He was beginning to understand that Reagan didn’t lean too hard on anyone when it came to her feelings. She’d crash on a couch or accept the offer for dinner, but when it came time to talk about what was bothering her, she tucked it away to deal with on her own. He’d always had siblings to bounce things off of and couldn’t imagine how hard it’d been for her to rely solely on herself.

“I didn’t expect to show up at my best friend’s apartment last week and find her and her frigging ex-husband having sex on my borrowed couch. So, there went my bed.” She sniffled, clearly trying to keep from crying. “She used to hate him because he cheated on her, and now she says he didn’t. I’ve been sleeping on Ike’s recliner instead, which sucks. Not the recliner. Having to ask him for help. I don’t want him taking care of me. I want to take care of myself, but I haven’t had a lot of luck finding an apartment within my budget.”

He opened his mouth, but she kept on talking.

“Before you offer, I don’t want an advance on my pay. I mean I do, but I haven’t earned it yet. I haven’t done half of what needs to be done around here. I thought working on my old house would feel good. It does, but it’s also—” She paused, clearly navigating around a lump in her throat as the tears she’d kept at bay spilled down her cheeks. “Hard.”

He erased the space between them, wrapping her tightly in his arms. He wasn’t sure if she’d lean on him or not, but she finally sagged against him, giving him her weight.

He kissed her head and then murmured into her hair, “Why didn’t you tell me this shit was going on?”

“I’m not your problem,” came her watery protest before she pulled away. She swiped her eyes with the sides of her fingers and then cleared her throat, pulling herself together in record time. “I’m fine. Honest. This has been building and is overflowing on you. I didn’t want to be an emotional wreck in front of Ike. He’ll worry.”

“You’re right. You’re not my problem. You’re not a problem, period, Reagan. And I’m sure your grandfather feels the same way.”

She blinked away residual tears. “I’m not out of options. There is an apartment complex with an opening. It’s not ideal, but I don’t have much of a choice.”

His shoulders tightened. “What’s not ideal about it?"

She waved a hand dismissively but then said something he could not and would not dismiss. “The last time I did a job in that area, my tools were stolen off my truck. I figure I can carry them in at night and back out in the morning to keep that from happening again.”

“No.”

She frowned. “No?”

“Yeah. No. You risking being robbed while you sleep isn’t ‘not ideal,’ it’s dangerous.”

“Everywhere else has a waiting list. I don’t have two months unless I stay with Ike, and his condo is smaller than Kelly’s apartment. Plus, he’s done enough for me.”

“So you’ve mentioned.” Like there was a limit to how much family would do for each other? He might give Jaylyn shit, but if she needed his help, he’d upend his life to make sure she was taken care of.

He didn’t think Reagan would appreciate a lecture, so he snapped into problem-solving mode instead. Arguably his strongest trait. “I can ask Jaylyn about openings in her building. They moved her in fast.”

“I’m sure the deposit alone is ten times more than the current place I’m looking at moving into.” She gave him a weak smile.

It was on the tip of his tongue to offer her the money to move wherever she damn well pleased, but she’d already warned him against doing just that.

“It’s a bit more of a drive, but don’t worry, I will complete the repairs you hired me to do. This isn’t your problem to solve.”

“I don’t care about the repairs, Reagan.” He cared about her. Since that felt really fucking vulnerable to admit, he said, “You can’t leave.”

Hand on the doorknob, she paused to glare at him.

“I mean, you can…just, you know…don’t. I have a compromise.”

She didn’t run out the door. A good sign.

“Stay here.” He sensed a refusal was coming. She’d made a production out of not taking up too much space, so he didn’t expect her to jump for joy at his offer. “Only until the place you want opens up. I need you here. Have you forgotten that you’re my muse?”

Her smile was paired with an eye roll, but at least they were on the right track.

“Your being here is a bigger help than you know. The silence in this house is maddening. Plus, why stay somewhere you aren’t comfortable? You’re comfortable here. And hey, no commute.”

She folded her arms over her chest, but her smile remained. She took a deep breath and dropped her arms. She was going to say yes, he could feel it. And for whatever reason, beyond the whole “muse” thing, he was personally invested in that yes.

“I can’t ask you to bail me out.”

---