Page 42 of Billionaire's Bookworm

“Yeah,” I agreed gruffly, brushing a kiss against her temple. Words weren’t enough to describe what we’d just shared.

With a jaw-cracking yawn, she nestled into me, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin.

“Stay with me,” I whispered, tightening my arms around her. Her headed nodded and in that moment, I knew—I was forever hers, whether she felt the same or not.

* * *

Later,much later, I lay watching her sleep in the dim lantern light, the power still out. Her hair spread across my pillow like ribbons of fire. Porky had settled at the foot of the bed, apparently done with his reign of destruction and not interested in what the humans were doing in the slightest.

Tomorrow, I decided.

Tomorrow I’d tell her everything––about that café near campus, about how I’d finally remembered where I knew her from, about how seeing her again had stirred memories of late-night debates and coffee-fueled conversations I thought I’d forgotten years ago. Tonight, I just wanted to memorize this moment: the weight of her against me, the peaceful curve of her lips, the way her hand still rested over my heart.

Sleep came easily, deeper than it had in weeks. I dreamed of fluorescent lights and heated 3AM arguments, of a younger version of myself beginning to question everything I thought I knew about what really mattered.

ChapterEleven

Emma

I woketo unfamiliar shadows dancing across pristine white walls. For a moment, I was disoriented––my cottage had weathered blue walls, not this stark perfection. Then Wade’s arm tightened around my waist, and reality crashed in with brutal clarity.

Last night. The storm. Wade.

My heart thundered against my ribs as memories flooded back: his hands, his kisses, the way he’d looked at me like I was something precious. Something to keep.

That thought sent a jolt of panic through my system. I couldn’t be kept. Trapped in a world I didn’t want. Not again. Not even by someone who made me feel as safe as Wade did.

I lifted his arm with trembling fingers, easing away from his warmth. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his features softened by sleep in a way that made my chest ache. I slipped from beneath the expensive sheets, gathering my scattered clothes with silent efficiency.

Porky raised his head from his spot at the foot of the bed, and I pressed a finger to my lips. The last thing I needed was his usual morning enthusiasm giving me away. To my relief, he just watched me with drowsy eyes as I dressed.

I paused at the bedroom door, allowing myself one last look at Wade. In sleep, all his careful control was stripped away. He looked younger, vulnerable in a way that scared me more than his usual self-assured presence.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to let anyone this close, especially not someone from the world I left behind. Even if he didn’t realize who I was yet, it was only a matter of time.

I closed the door with a silent click and crept down the hallway, Porky padding quietly behind me. My shoes dangled from one hand until I reached the front door. Only then did I slip them on, hands shaking as I worked the laces.

The morning air hit my face like a slap of reality. I hurried down the drive with Porky following close behind, refusing to look back at the sprawling estate that felt too much like my past. The walk home was mercifully short, though every step felt weighted with the memories of last night.

My cottage felt impossibly small after Wade’s estate, but the familiar creaks of the floorboards and the worn comfort of my furniture helped ground me. I’d chosen every piece myself, built this life from nothing but the books Grammy left behind for me. I couldn’t let one night––no matter how perfect–– threaten everything I’d worked for, the freedom and peace I’d fought so hard for.

Porky had other ideas about my morning of self-reflection. He planted himself in front of his food bowl and let out a demanding bark that echoed through the small space.

“Shh, you’ll wake the whole neighborhood.” I rubbed my temples, trying to ward off the headache I could feel building. “Although I suppose that’s karma for the times you’ve terrorized Wade’s perfectly manicured lawn.”

The thought of Wade sent another wave of uncertainty through me. I busied myself with Porky’s breakfast, mentally listing everything I needed to do at the store today. Inventory. The new shipment of mysteries needed shelving. The summer reading program needed?—

A wet splat interrupted my mental catalog. I turned to find Porky looking entirely too innocent, a half-chewed blob of something on the floor beside him.

“What did you—“ I crouched down for a closer look and let out a strangled laugh. There, partially dissolved but still recognizable, was one of Sandy’s blueberry scones. The ones Wade used to bribe my dog mere days ago.

“Traitor,” I muttered, but my voice caught. Everything about Wade had worked its way into my life so seamlessly–– from spoiling my dog to knowing exactly how I took my coffee. And last night... last night had felt inevitable, like something I’d been moving toward since the moment he’d walked into my bookstore.

That’s what terrified me most.

I cleaned up Porky’s mess and grabbed my keys.

Work. Work will help, Emma girl.

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