Page 40 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

"Yeah. I guess you’re right."

The conversation shifts, and for the first time in a while, Nate seems to relax. He cracks a few jokes, and I find myself laughing, feeling the tension between us ease a bit. It feels... nice. Comfortable. But at the same time, I’m acutely aware of the growing attraction I feel toward him. And I know, deep down, that it’s dangerous.

As we finish our dinner, Nate leans forward, his expression serious again.

"I’ve been holding off on telling Max about Becky," he admits.

"I didn’t know what her motive was for coming back, and I didn’t want to confuse him."

"Do you know now?" I ask.

He nods.

"Yeah. I dug deeper and found out she’s run through all the money from the divorce settlement. That’s the only reason she’s back. She wants more money. It’s not about Max."

My heart aches for him again.

"That’s awful."

"It is," he says, lowering his voice.

"But I have to figure out how to break it to Max. He deserves to know, but I’m not sure how to do it without hurting him."

"You’ll figure it out," I say softly. "You’re a really good dad, Nate."

He smiles at me then, a genuine smile, and for a moment, the tension between us is palpable. I cannot deny it anymore—my feelings for Nate are real, and they’re growing stronger by the day. But I know better than to act on them. Nate sees me as a little sister, and getting involved with him would only end in heartbreak.

As we leave the restaurant, I can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between us. The air is heavy withunspoken words, and as Nate walks beside me, his hand brushing mine, I know that whatever this is, it is only going to get more complicated.

And yet, a part of me does not want to stop it. Even though I know I should.

***

I step out of my room the next morning, the faint scent of coffee and sizzling bacon drifting down the hallway. The smile tugging at my lips feels annoyingly permanent as I replay last night’s dinner in my head. I shouldn’t be this happy over a simple meal—but here I am.

As I enter the kitchen, Sue is at the stove, humming softly to herself. The sight of her always makes me feel at home. Her easy, motherly presence has been my anchor in this house of brooding silence.

“Morning, sunshine,” Sue says over her shoulder, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. “You’re glowing today. Dinner must’ve gone well.”

I scoff, sliding onto one of the stools at the counter. “It was just dinner, Sue. Nothing special.”

Sue turns, her lips curling into a sly smile as she points her spatula at me. “Uh-huh. ‘Just dinner,’ she says. You’re practically floating this morning.”

I grab a mug and pour myself some coffee, rolling my eyes to mask the heat creeping up my neck. “You’re reading too much into it. It meant nothing. Really.”

Sue raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Honey, I may be old, but I’m not blind. You like him.”

Her words hit like a slap, and I set my coffee down a little too hard. “No, I don’t. I mean, come on, Sue. He’s... Nate. He’s Bryan’s best friend. That’s all it is.”

Sue smirks, leaning against the counter. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that. But the way you two look at each other? Sweetheart, denial doesn’t suit you.”

Before I can respond, the door swings open, and Nate walks in, his presence filling the room effortlessly. His sharp features are calm, unreadable, but his eyes—dark, piercing—lock onto me. My breath hitches, and suddenly the kitchen feels smaller.

“Morning,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

“Good morning,” Sue chirps, far too cheery as she flips another pancake.

I manage a nod, but Nate’s gaze lingers, making my heart race. Does he know what Sue and I were talking about? His expression gives nothing away, yet the air crackles with tension, heavy and suffocating.

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