Page 67 of The Billionaire's Beauty

“Well…” She adopts the gentle tone of someone about to deliver dire news. You’re going to have to replace your entire septic system, ma’am. “This was always supposed to be a summer fling, right?”

Like I want to think about that at this dark moment.

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“Wait a minute.” She squints and takes a closer look at me, looking scandalized. “You didn’t fall in love with him, did you? Bellamy! He’s not as big a jerk as I thought he was, but he’s not the kind of guy you get serious about. If nothing else, he’s a known player. What’re you doing?”

The L-word is a blow. Sure, it’s been tiptoeing around the periphery of my thoughts for weeks and creeping right up to the tip of my tongue, waiting for the right moment to slip out. Like when we laugh together. Or when we fall asleep tangled up in each other’s arms and legs. Or when he looks at me with that aching vulnerability in those blue eyes. Or when he expects me not to notice the way he stares at me when we’re together. I doubt I could so much as shed an eyelash without him noticing.

I think I love you, Griffin.

I think I’m crazy in love with you.

It’s right there, waiting, but I haven’t said it.

And it’s a good thing. Why? Because he’s never said anything about love, ever. Other than his stated position, which is that love is not a thing.

The grave truth is that I’ve fallen for a man who doesn’t share his feelings. Or let me in. Or talk about the future. Or believe in love.

He’s a real winner, boy. An emotional apex predator. The great white shark of the romance world.

And I’m just foolish enough to ignore all the flashing warning signs.

Hang on. That’s not entirely true. It’s not that I don’t see or care about the warning signs. It’s just that his good qualities seem so much more important.

I know that plenty of people out there would swear on a stack of Bibles that he’s never displayed any good qualities. They may have a point. But I’ve glimpsed humor in him. Intelligence. Kindness. Tenderness. And sexiness? Don’t get me started.

But the question on the table is: have I fallen in love with the entire Griffin Black package?

Yeah. I really think I have. And there’s no think about it.

I’m crazy in love with you, Griffin. Let’s try the long-distance thing. I’m willing to be flexible with my plans so I can keep you in my life. I want you. I need you. I love you.

Straight up, no chaser.

Not that I’m ready to admit it aloud.

So I try to laugh it off.

“Love? What’re you talking about? I’m fine. Do I care about him more than I expected to? Yeah. But no one said anything about love.”

“You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say, my morale plummeting to subterranean levels. Things are worse than I’d feared if she can wake from a dead sleep, take one look at me and diagnose me with a raging case of the L-word. “And I’ve got to go catch my flight.”

“What are you going to do about Griffin?”

I shrug. “Like I know.”

“Whatever you do, please don’t throw yourself at him,” she says. “Don’t get clingy. Men hate that. It drives them away every time. Be smart.”

Smart and I parted ways the second I first made a move on Griffin, alas. Now I seem to be flying on blind instinct. Not a foolproof plan, I admit.

“The thing is…I think there’s something here. Or could be if I can just get past his brick walls.”

She gapes at me as though I’ve sprouted a pig’s snout. “Says every lovestruck woman ever, Bellamy.”

“I know. But my gut keeps telling me I’ve got to stick with him. I can’t give up. Not yet.”

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