Page 73 of The Billionaire's Princess

Ryker sits on the coffee table in front of me, blocking my view of the asshole. “Right here,” he says, gesturing at his eyes. “Ignore him. Focus on me. What’s the problem? You think she’s getting back with the other guy?”

“No,”I say, and I don’t. Not really. Not when I’m in my right frame of mind. I’ve seen how she looks at me. I know how she responds to me when I touch her. I know what we’ve built together these last months. But I also know that there’s no telling what I might drive her to if I can’t get a grip on the insidious voice in my head that keeps telling me that she’ll leave me one day. If not for Percy, then for some other valid reason. Because I’m a fucking loser and the clock is running on when she’ll discover that inescapable fact. “But he’s part of her world. He’s got more money than we do. And her father just wants her to marry someone with money. He doesn’t give a fuck whether it’s me or the other guy.”

Ryker blinks. Frowns. “And she wants…?”

“Me,” I say.

Ryker’s frown deepens. “And this is a problem because…?”

I open my mouth, struggling to describe the brick wall that materializes in my face every time I think about next steps with Carly, but Griffin beats me to the punch.

“It’s classic Damon,” he says, lowering his phone. “Classic Type A control-freak behavior. Classic oldest child of divorce behavior. That’s why he’s so arrogant. It’s a defense mechanism because he knows he’ll never be good enough in his own mind.”

“What?”Ryker and I both say, glancing around at him.

“Damon thinks he’s got to be perfect,” Griffin continues blithely. “Think about it. Perfect student. The perfect son to sweep in and help Dad save the business. The perfect workaholic to sweep in and make the business bigger and better than it’s ever been. The perfect guy to sweep in and help us break the billion-dollar mark. He’s got to work his fingers to the bone or die trying to be perfect. Why? Because if he’d been perfect back in the day, like he thinks he should have, Mom would never have walked out on the family.”

I freeze, stunned into paralysis.

“That’s what a ten-year-old thinks, right, Damon? She never would’ve picked some other guy over Dad. The richer guy over Dad right when it looked like Dad’s business was about to go belly up. How am I doing, Damon? And now it’s in the back of your mind that Carly will walk out if you’re not perfect. Why bother letting her in if she’s only going to walk out? Just keep that door slammed in her face. Am I getting close?”

I gape at him. Not because I haven’t had these same half-baked ideas floating around in my brain, because I have. But because these self-destructive thoughts sound so absurd when spoken aloud by someone else. And because I never would have suspected that Griffin, of all people, possesses this sort of insight.

“Here’s the thing, Damon,” Griffin says, nailing me with that penetrating look of his. “I’m pretty sure she’s already noticed that you’re not perfect.”

I’m in love with you. At moments like this, it gets hard to remember exactly why I’m in love with you, but I am.

I wince, fighting the sensation that Griffin has clamped defibrillator paddles on either side of my head and shocked some sense into me. Could he be right? Is that all there is to my insanity? Just…insecurity? Just standard, garden-variety irrational fear? And if that’s my entire problem, am I stupid enough to let it stand between me and Carly?

No. No, I am not. I may be exceptionally stupid at times. But I’m not that stupid.

There’s going to come a moment, probably sooner rather than later, when you start to miss me and your fear of losing me is a million times worse than your fear of admitting you love me.

Jesus. What have I been doing? Pushing Carly away?

What the actual fuck have I been doing?

I’m still sitting there with revelations reverberating through me when Griffin kills the rest of his drink, sets the glass down on the coffee table, gives a single decisive clap and stands.

“Let’s go,” he barks at Ryker, who looks startled. “Our work here is done. You’re driving.”

“But…” Ryker says, sadly eyeballing the rest of his drink. “We just got here.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got stuff to do back at the office,” Griffin tells him. “Besides. He gets it.”

“I don’t get it.” I stand too, oddly reluctant to let my unlikely cavalry right off and leave me alone with my churning thoughts. I feel encouraged, yeah, but there’s still plenty of room for me to screw this whole thing up once they leave me to my own devices. “You two had the exact same fucked-up childhood that I did. Mom walked out on you two just like she walked out on me. Why aren’t you screwed up?”

“We are,” Griffin gravely assures me. “We’re just screwed up in slightly different ways.”

Well, that’s certainly true, I decide with a bark of laughter. Especially in Griffin’s case.

“Yeah, but how do you keep that from torching your relationships?” I think about how happy these two have been since that eventful night at Bemelmans last year when we all met our matches. Every day is Christmas now for these two, judging by the looks on their faces most of the time. “Why do you make it look so easy? What do you know that I don’t know?”

To my surprise, Griffin clamps his hands on either side of my face and gives me a look of purest empathy. No mischief for once. Just brotherly support and understanding.

“Nothing. We figured it out. You will too.” He gives my cheeks a stinging smack. “As soon as you grow a pair of real balls.”

“Fucking asshole,” I mutter, laughing and energized as I watch them wave goodbye and file out.

Time for me to get my princess back. And to seal this deal. For once and for all.

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