Page 33 of Billion Dollar Dispute

I think my small frame and fainting are enough of a sign, but I want him to know I look after Chad. He’s always well-fed; I’d rather starve than not have enough for him. I don’t want to be reported to the authorities because he thinks I’m not feeding my son. I am, and that's why my parents’ business is so important. I need it to get me out of this hole I’ve found myself in.

We continue unpacking in silence, and out of the corner of my eye, I take glimpses of Harvey moving effortlessly around my tiny kitchen.

“You don’t have to help. Would you like to sit and have a drink?”

“No, I’m done anyway,” he says, his gaze wandering around the apartment.

“I just need to change. Take a seat, I won’t be long.”

I make my way to the bedroom, pausing at the doorway to steal a glance at Harvey sitting on the sofa. Out of both sofas, he chose the spot where I sleep. He looks too big on the small sofa in my tiny living room. Chad rushes off to get his shoes on. I avoid looking at the bed in the center of the room.

I go to the closet in search of something comfortable yet clean and pull out a sweater and sneakers. Running my hands through my hair, I check my appearance out in the full-length mirror I have in the corner of my room.

Why do I bother? He’s not interested in a woman my age, with permanent lines on her face and tired bags under her eyes. With a heavy sigh, I tear my gaze away from the mirror.

Stepping out of my bedroom, my mouth parts to speak, but the words die on my tongue. Chad is in front of him, talking animatedly about something. My heart beats loudly in my ear as a mix of anxiety and frustration swirl within me. I need to get Harvey out of here.

“Are we ready?” I announce, re-entering the room.

Chad nods fast, and Harvey twists to face me before rising from the sofa. I don’t miss his gaze briefly running over my frame, probably revolted at my baggy clothes. The goal here isn’t for him to find me attractive; it’s actually the opposite. I want him to leave me alone. My head feels like it's spinning when he’s too close, blurring the trust lines, and I don’t like that. I need to regain control by pushing him away.

A couple yells at each other from the apartment upstairs, and Harvey looks at me, but I just ignore him and walk toward the stairs.

As we make our way to the sidewalk, the cool breeze wraps around me, but the way the sunshine penetrates through my clothes onto my skin is a relief. I feel the cold deep in my bones all the time.

We walk in silence for five minutes until we reach the public courts.

When we arrive, one court is taken by a group of teenagers, so we head toward the empty court, and I take a seat on the weathered bench, watching as Harvey and Chad prepare to play. Chad takes charge and bosses Harvey around explaining the rules of the game with confidence.

He’s definitely like his momma. I can’t help but smile at the sight. He makes it all worth it. No matter how tired or fucking sad I am, he makes the days so much brighter.

Harvey doesn’t argue with him, which is funny because he always talks back to me.

As the game begins, I find myself enjoying the effortless movements between the two. The sounds of their laughter, the ball bouncing on the concrete, and their sneakers on the court erase the noise of the rowdy teenagers.

Harvey's shirt has a dark patch on his lower back. He’s wearing jeans, and I’m sure it’s uncomfortable, but I guess he didn’t expect to come over and do this.

He didn’t expect Chad.

I’ve never discussed him or my life as a single mom.

Harvey runs over and I expect something to be wrong. But he rips his long sleeve shirt off and tosses it at my face. I swat it away to my lap. But the sight of his sweat-glistened skin and the smell of his aftershave cause my brain to short circuit, and I’m instantly consumed by him once again. And I’m pretty sure he can tell when he throws me a charming smile and says, “Hold this.”

“I’m not your maid, Lincoln,” I fire back.

“Now don’t be dirty with me.” He winks as he jogs off toward Chad.

I roll my eyes, but the corner of my lip lifts.

His back is to me and it’s glorious. The guy is cut, and with every dribble or shot of the ball, his muscles contract, causing heat to pool between my thighs.

When Chad gets the ball, Harvey turns, and his solid chest and abs are fully visible to me. And I sayabsbecause the guy has a six-pack. It’s never been something I care much about. My ex-husband's dad bod was hot to me, but I admit Harvey's perspiring body is undeniably attractive.

I wish I had my sunglasses to hide behind, because every time I run my gaze over his body, I get caught. Like, does the guy have some weird telepathic power where he can sense when I’m checking him out? It’s like a desire switch has been turned on inside me and I can’t turn it off.

A few minutes later, a bead of sweat trickles from his neck down to his chest. His chest hair is short like he trims it or maybe shaves it.

I can’t be caught staring again, so I can’t inspect it properly, but if I could have one touch…

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