Page 28 of Baby for My Billionaire Rival

Jake laughs and settles onto the chair, legs parted, hand resting on the seat right between his thighs. “It’s the simple things, Amy. Like bottled beer and boiled peanuts.”

Dear God, I need a drink. I suck down some of my drink. Damn. Watered down. Just like he said.

“You really are a fish out of water around us, aren’t you, Jakey?” Amy asks.

His smile fades slightly. “Well, I –”

“No, Jake fits right in. I mean, you saw him up there, didn’t you?” I interject. “A total natural.” I look back at Jake and smile. What the hell? Christmas break starts tomorrow. If something is going to happen, now would be the perfect time. Get it out of our systems and then move right along. I extend my foot and press it against his calf, feeling the heat of him through his denim (these are his “formal” jeans, as he described).

Jake’s mouth parts slightly, like he’s about to gasp. Then his lips spread into a smile.

“Right where he’s supposed to be,” I finish. And I mean it. Jake deserves his spot in the program just like any of us. We need him there to keep us grounded.

Correction:Ineed him. To keepmegrounded.

And for so many other reasons.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding. I feel like we’ve been –” Jake hiccups mid-sentence. “I feel like we’ve been walking for ages.”

“Told you it was a mile,” I say, bringing my shoulders up to my ears and attempting to bury my face in my scarf. There’s an intense chill in the air tonight not even the alcohol from… well, however many vodka cranberries I had can keep me warm. Lost track after the third between the tequila shots that someone bought for all of us.

Jake hiccups again.

“Are you seriously so drunk you’re hiccupping?” I ask, shooting him a grin. In my drunken state, my legs cross over one another and I stumble to the side.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Jake scoops his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side so I’m practically glued there. He’s so warm. I don’t want him to let me go. “Clearly not as bad off as you are.”

Jake offered to walk me home when the bartender shouted, “Last call.” And of course, I accepted. Not just because it’s late at night and no woman should be walking alone, but because I want every last minute I can have with him before I won’t see him for a month over Christmas.

And there’s a third reason. An obvious one.

The flirting got more and more intense from that very first drink. We were side by side the entire night. He had his arm around me at one point as he engaged in an argument with one of the frat bros about the stock market and had his hand on my leg under the table while I networked with Fig who tagged along for a drink.

“I knew you two could be brilliant together, but that knocked it out of the park,” she complimented.

Then Jake squeezed my leg and… well… I was done for.

Now he’s walking me home. His arm is around my waist. We’re both drunk. And I know doing certain things while drunk is usually a mistake, but I’ve wanted to kiss him while sober too. I want my hands all over his body, want to feel him whisper against my ear, want him inside me.

I want Jake in all ways I can have him. This is my one opportunity before everything resets at the start of next semester.

Jake hiccups again.

“You’re a drunk hiccupper!” I say, grabbing the lapel of his jean jacket (denim on denim never looked so sexy).

Jake laughs, his wind-burned cheeks growing even redder. “I am, I am. I’m sorry.” His fingers dig into my side. “Not as bad as being a drunken stumbler, though.”

He lifts me off the ground up onto his hip for a moment. I squeal and kick my legs. “Put me down!” I beg through laughter until my feet are once again on the earth. Still unsteady. But not with Jake at my side.

“Woah, wait.” Jake stops. “Isn’t that…” He points up at the façade of one of the apartments we just walked past. “That’s your building, isn’t it?”

I follow his finger and indeed, that’s mine. “Oh God, you’re right. I must have been…”

Jake's eyes burn in mine.

“…distracted.”

“Welp. Rewind.”

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