Page 16 of Stuck with the Billionaire Celebrity

“Come on,” I say, a little harsher than I mean to. “Let’s get inside.”

She follows me up the steps, her eyes darting around, taking in the sheer size of the place. I punch in the code on the security panel by the front door, and the locks disengage with a soft click. The door swings open, and we step inside.

The interior is sleek and modern, with high ceilings and open spaces. Marble floors stretch out beneath us, and the soft glow of recessed lighting highlights the minimalist decor.

I don’t keep much in the way of personal belongings out here; everything is neatly tucked away, out of sight. That’s how I like it: clean and controlled.

“Wow,” Grace breathes, her voice barely above a whisper.

I ignore her and head toward the kitchen, needing to put some space between us. I pour myself a glass of water and take a long sip, trying to calm the frustration bubbling up inside me.

Being this close to her is unnerving. Her scent is intoxicating, and I can’t help but wonder how she tastes.

Keep your distance. She’s off-limits in all ways. This is only temporary.

“Devon said he’ll bring your things tomorrow,” I growl, setting the glass down on the counter. “But for tonight, I’ll find you something to wear.”

“I can sleep in this.”

She frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she gestures toward the long sequined dress she’s wearing.

“You’re not sleeping in that. It’s uncomfortable, and I’m not dealing with you complaining about it later.”

“I wouldn’t complain,” she mutters under her breath.

I narrow my eyes at her. “Just… wait here.”

I leave the kitchen, heading upstairs to my room. Opening one of the drawers, I pull out an old T-shirt and a pair of shorts. They’ll be too big for her, but they’ll do. I head back downstairs.

“Here,” I say, holding out the clothes. “This should work for tonight.”

She eyes the T-shirt and shorts like I’ve handed her a dead fish. “I don’t need your pity, Mr. Rossi.”

Mr. Rossi? I’ve been inside of her, and she’s being so formal?

“Pity?” I let out a short laugh. “Trust me, this isn’t pity. It’s practicality. You’re not going to sleep in that ridiculous dress.”

I’m being overly rude to her and don’t like it.

I used to be fun and easygoing until Alexia got to me. Then Grace believed Alexia’s lies and ditched me.

It doesn’t help that all I can think about is kissing her.

She glares at me but eventually snatches the clothes from my hand.

“Fine. I typically don’t sleep in anything, but this is better than walking around in this dress and these heels.”

An unwanted image of her walking around my house completely naked flashes before my eyes. I clear my throat and turn around so she can’t see the bulge in my pants thickening.

“Bathroom’s upstairs on the left,” I say, pointing toward the staircase.

Without another word, she walks off, her heels clicking against the marble floor. I watch her go, trying to shake the strange mix of irritation and… attraction.

It’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone into my space, and having Grace here feels like an invasion.

But it also feels nice to have her here.

I pace the kitchen, trying to shake off the unease. It’s just for a few nights, I tell myself. She’ll be gone soon enough.

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