Page 29 of The Billionaires' Prize

I’m serious about her. Always have been. It’s why I’ve never settled in one place for too long. It’s why no other person has turned my head the way she does.

I blow out a sigh and run my hands through my hair. Okay, first things first. Eat something. That’s half the battle. All I’ve had today is coffee. And while my mom’s coffee is the best, food is the answer.

With a protein bar and an apple in hand, I snag a bottle of water from the refrigerator and go change. The one thing that’salways kept my head on straight is exercise, so I use my key card to head down to the gym.

My phone bleeps as I step off the elevator.

Mel: lunch tomorrow?

My first instinct is to hoard every moment in case Katherine is free. But that’s silly. She has a job to go to. Do I really want to sit around waiting for her?

Yes.

Yes, I do. Any glimpse, every moment of her attention, is worth it.

Which is why I huff a sigh and type a quick reply to my sister.

Kingston: sure. noon? where at?

Then I put my phone on airplane mode and focus on working up a sweat.

An hour later, I’m back in Katherine’s apartment, head on straight.

Straighter.

Okay, I’m not spiraling.

Baby steps.

She’s not in her office, the kitchen, the dining room or camped on the couch. I check my texts. No message. There’s no note on the peninsula, either.

I’m starving.

“Hey,” I say, stalking across her apartment and tapping my knuckles against her bedroom door. It swings open a handful of inches, so I call out, “What do you want for dinner? I could eat a hippo.”

The sound of the shower is my only answer. My gut tightens, anticipation flooding me and wiping away my hunger pains.

“Kat?”

No response.

I peek my head in. The bathroom door is wide open, the mirror foggy.

Did she leave the door open on purpose? Surely not. How could she know how long I’d be?

Her sweater is a cream puddle on the floor, which is odd. I’ve been in her room and walked by dozens of times over the years, and she’s quite fastidious.

Her leggings lay just outside the bathroom door, taunting me.

Does she want me to join her?

That’s so. . . forward.

Katherine’s not forward.

Except, I’m realizing there are facets of my best friend that I’ve never seen before. Or maybe Gabe and Alex are bringing out new sides of her. Maybe they make her comfortable, which is something to think about later.

But I didn’t come all this way to sit in the corner twiddling my thumbs. I put a hand against the thick wooden panel and push it wider. Her hums greet me, along with the sound of water raining against the tile.

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