Page 20 of Triplet Babies for the Billionaire
I let out a shaky breath, leaning into her touch. It’s a comfort I didn’t realize I needed. “It was. I lost the person I thought I’d spend my life with. And after that, I couldn’t...I couldn’t even think about letting anyone get close.”
She holds me tighter, her voice low and comforting. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore, Noah.”
I close my eyes, allowing myself to relax for the first time in years, feeling her warmth, her presence, as if for just a moment, I’m not alone anymore.
Chapter Seven
Blossom
Stepping into the hotel lobby, the familiar hum of activity surrounds me.
The staff is busy, the guests are chattering, and everything feels like it’s moving at lightning speed.
But all I can focus on ishim.
Noah Hudson.
Over the last two weeks, we’ve been sneaking around: quiet kisses, shared glances, stolen moments when no one’s looking.
It feels like we’re walking a tightrope, balancing between something real and the secret we’re trying to keep hidden.
I try to push the thought aside, but it sticks to me like a weight.
I’m nervous.
I can feel the nerves creeping up with every passing shift, but at the same time, there’s this strange sense of confidence that builds inside of me. We’ve been getting away with it so far. No one suspects anything, and it feels like we can keep doing this, like I can have my cake and eat it too.
But I know the inevitable is coming.
We can’t keep this secret forever.
Eventually, someone will notice.
And when they do, I don’t know how we’ll handle it.
I focus on my work, putting on my best bartender smile, and push the doubts to the back of my mind.
I can do this.
We can do this.
For now, at least.
As I walk toward the bar, I see Courtney standing near the counter, fiddling with the glassware. She’s in her early thirties, with red hair that falls to her shoulders and hazel eyes that can turn sharp when she wants them to.
I’ve worked with her a few times now, and though she doesn’t say much, I always try to be friendly.
“Hey, Courtney,” I greet her, forcing a smile, trying to shake off the nerves still buzzing in my chest.
She doesn’t answer immediately, and when she does, it’s with a terse nod.
There’s something in her expression—something cold. She just brushes past me, walking off without a word, like I’m not even standing there.
I feel my stomach tighten, the unease settling into my chest.
What did I do? I don’t get it. I’ve always been nice to her. Was it something I said? Or did she just decide she doesn’t like me?
The silence between us feels uncomfortable, and I try to shake it off, focusing on the bar, on the drinks I have to prepare, but her snub lingers.
