Page 19 of Billionaire Devil

I shove that thought out of my head. That was obviously a joke told under the influence of copious amounts of very strong alcohol.

It’s not like Sloane can be mad at me, once I tell her—after the fact. It’s notmyfault he’s shown up here with a luxury tour bus. I know she’ll forgive me once I arrive safely in Los Angeles and we can laugh it off as a random escapade that’s now over.

With newfound energy I can only attribute to the double-shot of coffee starting to hit my bloodstream with gusto, I go into the bathroom and close the door. Then I run the shower, peel off my clothes and step into it. The hot water blissfully washes over my skin, rehydrating me by a single degree.

“I’ll grab some more of these smaller bags and this sewing machine,” Colton calls from the other room.

“Thank you!” I call back. “I’ll get the stuff in my bedroom. I won’t be long.” Whatever. I’m too hungover to question this. For all I know, I could be dreaming this whole scenario.

Ten minutes is not long enough in any lifetime to get ready to go anywhere with someone as hot as Colton Maddox, but it’s not about that, I remind myself. I’m not exactly sure what itisabout, but I’m not in the state of mind to mull that over right now. So I put on a pair of cute jean shorts I made, with suede detailing on the side seams, and a fitted white t-shirt with a cheerful slogan about the demise of the patriarchy emblazoned across my chest. Ileave my hair long, put on a little mascara and some pink lip gloss.

Then I pack the last of my stuff into my overnight bag and stuff my sheets and comforter into an oversized bag.

That’s everything. If I decide not to come back—which I have—at least the apartment is empty.

By the time I check once more for anything I’ve forgotten and say a mental goodbye to my tiny studio, I hear Colton blasting the horn in an annoyingly rhythmical pattern. My neighbors are going to love me for that.

I close the door behind me, jogging down the stairs.

Which is most definitely a mistake.

I stop on the sidewalk, doubling over, contemplating gripping the sides of a nearby trash can. Jogging was a bad idea. Movement in general was a bad idea. And the last thing I need right now is for a billionaire to see me on the verge of being sick.Please don’t get out of the bus.

“Need me to hold your hair and rub your back?”

Damn it.“No,” I manage. “Please. I need a minute.”

Maybe if I upchuck on the street, it would be for the best. Then he’ll drive away in disgust and we can forget this whole crazy plan.

“Feeling sick?”

Didn’t I just tell him I need a minute? But nope, he’s still standing right there, grinning like all this is normal and like we’re not complete strangers that are about to embark on a three thousand mile journey together.

He might be handsome, but I get the distinct impressionI made a deal with the devil last night. No one should be this perky and charming and good looking after the amount of toxins we consumed last night.

I straighten up and the world spins. Colton notices me wobble. He holds my arm to steady me.

“You really have trouble picking up men?” he smirks. “I can’t imagine why. Almost hurling all over a guy’s shoes first thing in the morning is usually a real turn on.”

I glance up into eyes that are all the colors of a summer day. “Okay, you can fuck off a little less.”

Colton wraps an arm around my waist. “Careful, Lila, the last thing I need is a hard-on while I’m driving.”

4

“Canwe please make that the last time we talk about your hard-on during this trip?” She blinks at me, with that same pouty little attitude that slayed me last night. Her silver eyes are light this morning, made brighter by the slightly bloodshot effect.

“Of course we can’t. We have an agenda, if you recall from the pact we made last night. And I intend to follow through on every one of my promises.”

Last night I was amped up by success, Moët and a spectacular sunset. I can admit the combination of Lila’s gorgeousness and sass hooked me, but I couldn’t help wondering very early this morning if it was a case of being caught up in the heat of the moment. If maybe I’d overdone it by offering to drive her all the way to fucking California.

But now, I can feel whatever hold she has on me digging deeper, like those hooks are sweetly barbed with the kind of pain that feels…not just good, but better than anything has.

I don’t know what the fuck is happening here, but if she’sthisfucking adorable when she’s exhausted and hungover, I’m a goner.

Apparently not appreciating my early-morning sense of humor, Lila groans and mutters something under her breath, but lets me guide her towards the monstrous RV.

As she pulls herself up the steps, gripping the doorframe for support, she sways to one side and for a second I’m worried she’s about to topple right back out again. I place my hand on her back to steady her, trying not to stare at how good her ass looks in those sexy little shorts.

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