Page 42 of The Nanny's Bossy Billionaire

“You wish,” Stella says, hiding a snicker in her coffee.

“What?” I stop chewing.

“You wish I didn’t witness the apocalypse that happened in your room last night.”

“Oh my God! You were in? You said you were spending the night with Luke.” Luke is a Calvin Klein model Stella met at a recent photo shoot.

“Nah, I changed my mind. We went out for drinks but I just wanted my own space, so I called it a night. And came home expectingsome peace and quiet. But no, Quiet, you were not. Brooke was being bodaciously bad with her billionaire boo… Notice those alliterations? I’ve been practicing it to the beat of the banging headboard.”

“You’redisturbedis what you are.” My cheeks are flushed.

“HellwasI ever disturbed! If I didn’t know better, girlfriend, I’d think you were being murdered in there.”

I’m so embarrassed. “I’m sorry we kept you up.”

“Me? I slept like a baby. There’s no better lullaby than listening to your slutty best friend finally get off. Repeatedly. It’s been a long time coming, Brooke. I’m so proud of you.”

“Oh, God!” I groan. “That is so not happening here again.”

Stella chortled happily. “Don’t stop on my account. The neighbors might complain though…”

“Actually, it was my fault. He shouldn’t have been here at all yesterday.”

“How so?”

“Well, I sort of slipped up and said I love you.”

“Hold up. You love him?”

“I do Stella. God help me, I so love that man. I didn’t even know I said it. I thought I was saying goodnight or something, and by the time I realized what I said, it was too late. He, um, he overreacted.”

“Overreacted?”

“He got all blistering and macho, and next thing I know he’s at the door in the middle of the night demanding I tell him in person over and over again…”

“And then proceeds to fuck your brains out. Oh, Brooke, how freaking hot is that?”

“Well, yeah, in a nutshell. But Stella, you don’t think it’s too soon,do you? Am I being an idiot about this?”

“Uh-uh, you don’t get to second guess or sabotage this, Brooke. You blurted it out because it felt natural. I know you, however long it takes, you’d never say something like that unless it felt right.”

“But he didn’t say it back,” I say in a small voice.

“Oh, you mean he was too busy savoring it to say it back?”

“I mean, how hard can it be? It’s three words. If he feels the same way, surely…”

“I’ve seen that man around you and I can tell you he’s crazy about you. A man would not get that excited over you telling him something like that unless he’d been desperate to hear it.”

Hope blooms in my chest, along with a wave of nausea so strong I have to rush to the bathroom. I barely make it in time to lose my breakfast and then some more down the toilet. I’m still retching when Stella gathers my hair up and gently rubs my back.

When I stop heaving, Stella helps me up and takes me back to the kitchen, fixing me some sweet ginger tea. I’m sipping the tea with some dry crackers when I notice she’s hovering. And looking at me in a strange way.

“I must be coming down with a virus or something,” I explain, touching my forehead. “The same thing happened a couple of days ago.”

Stella shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think it’s a virus.”

I give her a questioning look.

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