Page 4 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

I’m entranced as I watch juice dribble down her chin. Without thinking, I gently wipe it away with my finger, freezing when I realize what I’ve done.

“Sorry,” I say as I yank my hand back.

Her brown eyes meet mine as she traces her mouth where my finger grazed.

“Don’t be.” She offers me a reassuring smile. “You know I’m a messy eater, so I appreciate it.”

I clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m happy I could help.” I brush the sauce off on a napkin before I do something out of line like lick it from my finger.

Thankfully, Everly isn’t paying attention. She’s chewing methodically, lost in thought. “Why are boys so stupid?” she mumbles under her breath.

“I could ask the same question about girls,” I tease.

“Hey.” She playfully slugs me on the shoulder. “We’re not all self-absorbed snobs like Whitney. Honestly, I’m not sure what you ever saw in her.”

She was a distraction.

What stings the most about what happened with Whitney is the fear that other people will react the same to my scar. I used to be comfortable in my own skin, but since the accident, I’m not so sure anymore.

“Hey, Stafford,” Everly says, her sing-song voice snapping me out of my pity party.

“Yeah, Ev,” I reply.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly.

“Is it weird that I do?” She watches me, anticipating my reaction. “I like to think there’s one person out there that I’ll grow old with and who will love me unconditionally, no matter what.” She chews on her lower lip as she considers her next words. “What if I’m destined to date losers for the rest of my life?”

Everly is a dreamer who sees the world with a glass-half-full mentality. Which is why I don’t have it in me to tell her that Jacob most likely won’t be the last man who breaks her heart.

Relationships are messy and tangled up with so many emotions, and I, for one, plan to avoid them in the future. They’re nothing but complicated, inevitably leading to pain. Why anyone would want to subject themselves to that brutality is beyond me.

“Ev, you’re only seventeen,” I remind her. “You’ve got plenty of time to find yourone.”

“But what if he never comes?” She leans back, looking up at me with those innocent brown eyes.

God, why does she have to be so pretty?

“I’ll tell you what.” I give in to temptation and play with a strand of her hair. “If you can’t find him, and we’re both still single when we’re thirty, we’ll get married.”

Everly bursts out laughing. “You can’t be serious.”

I’ve never been more serious in my life.

In an alternate universe, I like to think that I could be herone. The person to make her laugh every day, her Prince Charming, and the one she couldn’t live without.

In this reality, I’m just the court jester she tolerates because of my sense of humor and upbeat attitude. I’m not the prince who sweeps her off her feet, or the knight in shining armor she rides off into the sunset with.

“I may not be your first choice, but I promise you I’d be an excellent substitute,” I tease.

Everly raises a brow in a silent challenge. “Oh, really?”

“Absolutely. I would make you laugh every day, make sure you had an endless supply of takeout from Willow Creek Café, and build you a dedicated room for your shoe collection.”

She bats her eyelashes. “How could I ever refuse such an offer?”

“Do you have a pen in your backpack?”

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