Page 32 of Billion Dollar Revenge

“I don’t need to do anything I don’t want to do.” Standing face-to-face with him as he challenges me makes me drop my gaze and shuffle my feet from side to side.

“You don’t want to stand with me all night.”

His hand grabs my chin and brings my gaze back to his.

“What if I want to?”

I’m breathing heavier now, the alcohol hitting me harder. “You couldn’t possibly.”

“I do.”

My head spins. “Thank you for tonight. I had a really good time. Minus you randomly drunk kissing me to piss off Bobby.”

He tips his head back and laughs harder. “You’ll forget this happened tomorrow. But it plays well into our temporary relationship.”

I giggle until I hiccup. “I know. I’m a little drunk. But you know we have to look like a real couple.”

His eyebrow rises as he laughs again. “A little? And yes, unless you change your mind.”

I go to shake my head but immediately stop when spots form in front of my eyes. “No changing my mind. He’s going down. But…” I hiccup again. “How will it work?”

“We pretend to be a real couple, but with no real feelings, until Bobby quits and leaves the city.”

“You know couples hang out, hold hands, and kiss.”

I never thought I’d be faking a relationship, but if this works, Bobby will see me doing just fine without him. I just hope I don’t end up feeling something for my new boyfriend.

“I’m well aware, and I promise to be a good showman. He’ll be convinced we're the real thing.”

And if I get to kiss him again, I don’t mind at all. “I like your plan.”

He waves at a car. “My driver will take you home.”

“What will you do?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But?”

“Chelsea…” He looks at me with a fixed stare again, his fingers caressing, as his mouth moves closer, and I feel his breath tickle my lips. “I’ll be fine, but I need your number,” he asks in a deep raspy voice.

I’m shaking all over, the anticipation and alcohol too much. I give him my number and then stand there, biting my lip, waiting and hoping he will tell me what he’s thinking. Or better, what he’s feeling. But he doesn’t lean in and close the distance, he just stands there, leaving me with a mix of longing and uncertainty. Each second stretches, my thoughts spiraling with doubt and desire. Is he hesitating, or am I reading too much into this moment?

Chapter 11

Chelsea

Since finishing up atthe recruitment agency, I’ve picked up extra shifts at the studio while I wait for the opening of my own. Tonight, I’m preparing for the last class of the day, setting up beds, Pilates balls, and rings. I’ve been working here casually for the last two years. I met the manager as a client because I would come every day when I first moved to New York. Taking care of my health always kept me grounded and stopped me from running to Connecticut out of fear of being alone. The energy of this studio allowed me to call this place home. It’s more dimly lit, with dark flooring, but it’s fantastic to work at regardless. Now, everything is ready to go. I open the door and grab my list of names. They’re all regulars.

I adjust the mic on my head and test it out. The music playlist is set. This class is advanced, which means everyone joining is familiar with Pilates. The clients start pouring in, and I chat with a few, asking how their day was. One of the clients is a co-worker of mine. We do this a lot. Train as a client to try out moves wecould use in our own classes or just to get a good workout in, because after a full day of work, the last thing I feel like doing is my own class. I find that I don’t push myself as much.

I am about ready to begin, when Evan walks in, catching my attention, and all the air in the room gets sucked out. My eyes blink rapidly, as if I’m imagining things. I know I asked him to come, but I never in a million years thought he’d turn up. But he did. Standing in the doorway, he’s wearing workout clothes, along with a tight expression.

His muscular arms are on full display, the contours of his biceps rippling slightly under the studio lights. The black tank top clings to his torso, highlighting the defined lines of his chest and the faint outline of his abs. His training shorts hang just above the knee, loose enough for movement but fitted enough to reveal the muscles in his legs.

He’s so hot it makes me want to melt into a puddle.

He’s here.

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