Page 23 of Stuck with the Billionaire Celebrity

“That’s a wrong assumption, but I expect nothing less from you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we shared an amazing weekend together, but you darted the chance you saw an opening. That’s not the type of person I want in my life.”

I open my mouth to respond but he’s already stalking out of the living room like he’s the wounded party.

“Let’s just… try to stay out of each other’s way,” I call after him. “We don’t have to talk unless we need to.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

4

THEO

It’s been one hell of a day. The kind of day that makes me want to lock myself in a room and forget the world exists for a while.

Instead, I pull on a pair of swim trunks and head out to the pool. Swimming usually clears my head, helps me sort through the chaos.

As soon as I step outside, I’m hit with the twang of a country song blaring through the speakers. My jaw tightens at once.

I hate country music.

It grates on me like nails on a chalkboard, but apparently, Grace has decided it’s exactly what the afternoon calls for.

And there she is, lying on one of the chaise lounges by the pool, wearing next to nothing. Literally. Her bikini—if you can even call it that—is practically nonexistent, more string than fabric.

She’s sipping some kind of fruity drink, a magazine open on her lap, her lips moving as she sings along to the song.

I stop dead in my tracks, my irritation flaring, but not because of the music anymore.

I can’t take my eyes off her.

She’s sprawled out like she owns the place, the sun glinting off her olive skin, her long legs stretched out, one foot lazily bouncing to the beat.

Her hair’s piled up in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face, and that bikini… damn it.

I know I should say something. Get her to turn the music down at the very least.

But instead, I just stand there for a second, watching her. I can’t help it. The way her body moves to the rhythm, the way her fingers tap against the magazine, t’s infuriating how effortlessly hot she is.

Finally, I clear my throat, loud enough to get her attention. She startles a bit, glancing over at me with wide eyes before a smirk pulls at her lips.

“Well, look who decided to join the party,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she reaches for her drink. “Want one? I make a mean margarita.”

I scowl, crossing my arms over my chest. “Turn the music down.”

She arches an eyebrow at me, her smirk widening. “You don’t like country?”

“No, I don’t,” I reply, my voice clipped. “And I didn’t realize the pool was now a public beach.”

She laughs softly, a sound that’s both infuriating and… something else. She takes a slow sip of her drink, not even bothering to move.

“Oh, lighten up, Theo. You could use some relaxation.”

She gestures toward the empty lounge chair next to her.

“Come on, sit. Enjoy the sun for once.

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