Page 59 of The Billionaires

“Of course.” I think I’d stroll through sewers if it meant keeping that expression on her face.

Wait, what? If I were alone, I’d smack my meatsack self… maybe in the dick—the likely culprit of these errant thoughts.

“Thanks.” She licks her lips again, making it official.

Fucking biology is making me want to kiss her.

Again.

CHAPTER 23

JUNO

Lucius stares at me with an expression that’s hard to puzzle out.

Is he regretting the nice gesture already? Or his earlier compliments? Or is that his constipated face?

“I need to check some work emails,” he says, his tone gruff.

“Sure.” Have I done something to offend him, or is he simply being his regular asshole self?

He pulls out his phone, so I take out my CD player and start my audiobook. At some point, I catch him looking at my device with derision.

Ah, that’s right. Slightly dated technology annoys him.

I should’ve brought a steam engine.

“This is wonderful,” I say as we enter the lush Butterfly Rainforest exhibit.

The brochure promised a thousand butterflies and moths of over fifty species, and the flying insects do not disappoint.

I’ve even forgotten that I’m slightly mad at Lucius for his abrupt one-eighty in the car.

“Yeah.” He examines our colorful, serene surroundings. “This alone makes the trip to Gainesville worth it.”

I reach out to touch his shoulder, then realize we’re not in the kind of relationship that would make such a familiar gesture appropriate. “I’m sorry they don’t have any stuff related to ancient Rome.”

“I knew they wouldn’t.” He turns to me, eyes glinting devilishly. “No place is perfect.”

His gaze captures me. I swallow thickly and take a step back before I do something crazy, like throw my lips at his. Even so, my voice is a bit husky as I say, “If I get accepted, I think I’ll come here all the time.”

“When,” he says, turning to check out a particularly spectacular orchid. “Not if.”

There are more butterflies in my belly than in this garden. He’s doing that one-eighty again, only in the opposite direction—and I can’t help lapping it up. First, he called me “determined and clever,” and now he’s certain I’ll be accepted. Does he mean it? Then again, would he say it if he didn’t? He’s certainly not the type to lie in order to seem nice.

He glances at me in that moment, and our eyes catch again. My pulse picks up, the rhythm suddenly unsteady. I can see subtle flecks of blue in his steel-gray eyes, and my breath shallows out as unsettling warmth spreads through my body. I swallow hard as my gaze drops to his lips, the stern curve of which seems softer now that they’re slightly parted.

Is he going to kiss me again? Am I going to let him?

I swallow again and sway toward him—only to jump as loud voices suddenly burst into my hearing range. Startled, I turn and see that a rambunctious group of young males has entered the exhibit.

Ugh. Not only have they interrupted what may have been another kiss, but they smell like a brewery and are wearing T-shirts with what seem to be the Greek letters Alpha, Pi, and Epsilon—next to a picture of an ape.

Speaking of apes, that’s what they sound like—specifically, chimpanzees about to throw feces.

“Pledges,” Lucius says, making it sound like a dirty word.

As if to confirm, one of them yells, “This is the Caterpillar Pledge!”

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