Page 65 of Resisting the Billionaire

Did I take extra time with my appearance? Maybe. Brushed my teeth, shaved my legs, and wore a matching set of lingerie? Again, maybe.

But those are all things I normally do. They just happened to coincide tonight. He asked me over as a friend. To watch a movie. What’s that phrase - Netflix and chill?

Wait. Not the best example.

The elevator pings and I whisper a silent prayer, thanking this building for not being a walk-up. Then again, this is the forty-ninth floor. It’d be near impossible to jog up and down that many flights daily.

I check my teeth in my reflection one last time before the doors open on a short hallway with a single door. Does he have the entire floor to himself?

Wait, what am I thinking? Of course he does. He comes from a billionaire family.

I ring the doorbell and shake out my hands for a few moments before he opens the door, as handsome as ever in a gray button-down with the sleeves rolled up I’ve seen him in before.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, stepping in close to briefly kiss my cheek.

The way a friend would, I tell myself as I set my purse on the front entryway table, lingering over how his stubble had lightly grazed my skin, the luscious scent of his cologne wrapping itself around me. “I saw you yesterday.”

“I know,” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets. “But I figured since we’re being honest with each other now, I’d tell you.”

We are being honest, aren’t we? Everything is out in the open. Well, not quite everything. I’ve told him I… desire him, but have I said how much I care about him? How much I simply enjoy his company? If I didn’t know better, I’d actually say I’m fall-

Nope, slippery slope. Not going down that way.

I finally glance around, my jaw nearly dropping at the floor to ceiling view. “My God,” I mutter, walking over to the bank of windows that face the skyline. “It’s like you’re a god looking down at the mortals.”

“I’m just Gabriel,” he replies, expression sober.

Oh, shit. I said the wrong thing again, didn’t I? “Right. I’m sorry.” I bite my lip, chuckling humorlessly. “Look at me, not here for two minutes and already putting my foot in my mouth.”

He gives a small smile. “No, you’re right. But Archer’s view is even higher. The king of gods,” he says, pointing above him.

“Your brother’s on the fiftieth floor?” He nods. “But I thought you weren’t close.”

“I mean, physically we are. But I hardly ever see him. A ghost might as well live up there. He’s turning into a workaholic. Into Dad.”

I keep gazing out the window at the setting sun, unsure what to say. It’s easy to forget sometimes he comes from this kind of money with how down to earth he acts. But it seems riches still can’t save you from a dysfunctional family.

“This place is suspiciously neat,” I comment in an attempt to change the subject.

“I have a housekeeper who comes twice a week,” he admits. “I’d never be able to keep up with an apartment this size otherwise.”

“Can you give me a tour?”

He sweeps his arm out wide at the open area, encompassing the sleek leather furniture and marble-topped end tables. “Living room.”

He leads me to a stainless steel and granite filled gourmet kitchen, with barstools along the outer counter. “Kitchen.”

I eye the sub-zero fridge covetously as he continues down a hallway opening doors to a guest bedroom and bathroom, and a room decorated like an office.

“I don’t use any of these,” he says. “I just left them how the designer styled it.”

We stop at the last door, which he opens slowly. “And bedroom.”

One wall is completely glass, looking out again at the Manhattan skyscrapers, a California king on the opposite wall with dark, inviting bedding. Through a doorway lies a marble filled bathroom, with a walk-in shower probably as big as my entire kitchen. This entire apartment could easily fit six or seven of mine.

“Looks cozy,” I joke, a vast understatement for a room that’s actually large enough for its own separate seating area in the corner. My living room is barely big enough for that. And I don’t even have an enclosed bedroom. God, what did he think seeing my tiny studio apartment?

I turn away, heading back toward the living area. “Your place is amazing.”

---