Page 31 of Forking the Billionaire

I took a moment and a breath, reminding myself that Gabe didn’t do people. Why would he call first when he hated phone calls? He wouldn’t. And I was supposed to be playing nice.

“It’s chill,” I said with as genuine of a smile as I could muster.

“This is a nice view,” he said.

“Stellar.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets and didn’t say anything else. The next move was mine, I guessed.

Better to rip the Band-Aid off.

I grabbed my flip flops, popped up to my feet, and stretched. “All right, fine, you twisted my arm enough. I’ll give you the grand tour.”

His lips flattened into a line as I strolled past him and headed for my bungalow. He easily slipped in beside me, and a semi-comfortable, semi-tense quiet settled between us.

It had been forever since we’d hung out. There was always some kind of tension between us that overshadowed any positives in our relationship. Like when I was in the fourth grade and Gabe offered to help me build a volcano for the science fair. I, being me, decided to get started while I waited, because I was sure I’d absolutely dazzle him with my creativity and ingenuity. He’d be all like,Esme, this is beautifully executed. You’re a top-notch scientist, a prodigy, and exceptionally impressive for your age.And I’d preen but also play it off as no big deal. Then he’d say the magic words, the ones I’d waited my whole life for him to say:I’m proud of you.

Except, because I’m me, I didn’t produce a beautifully executed, top-notch volcano. I came in too hard, too fast, with too much enthusiasm. I crafted a disaster.

“Esme,”he’d said. “Why?”

And that was pretty much what I’d grown to expect from the pair of us, and I was pretty sure that was what he expected too. I’d do something stupid with hope in my heart, and he’d look at me like I was from another planet. To him, it probably seemed that instead of looking for his approval, it was my life’s greatest ambition to perpetually shock and horrify him with my wild ineptitude.

So as we reached my porch and stepped through the front door, all I could imagine him seeing in my home was more failure.

I’d cleaned pretty much non-stop since I found out he was coming. But as I stood beside my big brother in my living room, what I saw was the curl at the edge of the carpet and the dust I’d missed under the coffee table.

Inwardly cringing, I peeled my gaze from those stupid overlooked details and forced myself to check my brother’s expression. It was blank.

“This is the living room,” I said, as if that wasn’t obvious. With a wave of my hand, I gestured past the couch. “Kit?—”

I spotted the bag of pee sticks on the counter, and my heart just about stopped.

I grabbed Gabe’s arm maybe a little too hard, and shoved him down the small hall. “Bedroom and bathroom are down there.”

“Are you suggesting I look at those myself?”

“I’m right behind you,” I said as I ran to the kitchen and stashed the bag in the plate cabinet.

Then I ran back to find Gabe standing exactly where I’d left him. Only now he’d shoved his hands in his pockets and his blank expression had turned slightly concerned.

I pretended not to notice and waved a hand at the bathroom. “Water runs and everything.”

Then the bedroom, where a pile of clothes sat on top of the dresser, and a few rogue articles lay scattered across the floor.Crap on a cracker. Too late to avoid him seeing that. Still, I scooped up the most obvious bra and dress and tossed them in the hamper, while simultaneously kicking a few things under the bed. Years of practice had made me a quick-clean-up ninja.

Then I turned and beamed at my brother, wishing I didn’t feel that familiar cautious hope building in my system. I didn’t want to feel like that fourth grader expecting him to adore my volcano. I wanted to be able to accept whatever he had to say and not care.

My cheeks started to hurt I was smiling so hard and so long.

Finally, Gabe said, “It’s a nice house.”

There was no cause for celebration yet. There was abutcoming. There had to be abut.Waiting for it was agony. I said,“But….”

“No additional clause required. It’s a nice house, Esme. I’m glad to know where you are living. It offers…peace of mind.”

“Okay….” I didn’t know how to take that. It was a nice thing, right? He was saying I didn’t fail?

“It’s a good fit, and safe, for however long you’re planning your trip to last.”

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