Page 50 of Resisting the Billionaire

Gabriel

Istare at her, lipstick smudged from where I kissed her, chest still rising and falling heavily.

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

I ignore the sinking sensation in my stomach, reaching a hand forward to deliberately brush my fingers against hers, taking her hand in mine. “Tell me you don’t feel this attraction the same as I do.”

I know she does. I felt it in her kiss.

She swallows, staring soundlessly at where our hands are joined. She can’t deny it, but she lets go of me all the same.

“It doesn’t matter,” she finally says. “You’re getting married.”

“It’s not a real marriage. You understand that more than anyone.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. So I won’t touch her? Or so she won’t touch me? “It is legally.”

“I barely know her. Or like her.”

She shakes her head stubbornly, a determined glint in her eye. Normally I enjoy seeing her confidence, her resoluteness. But not now. That stone in my stomach sinks all the way down.

“The kissing… it can’t happen again. It’s not right.”

This is the only thing in my life thatisright. Everything else is a farce. “You won’t admit you want me?”

She bites at her bottom lip, staring at me silently for a long moment. “Please don’t make this hard.”

I run a hand through my hair, the urge to pull it out nearly overwhelming. “You know what’s hard? Resisting you every time I see you. Kissing is only the beginning.”

She bites harder at her lip, till I’m afraid she almost might draw blood. “I’m not a cheater,” she whispers.

Was she actually worried about that today? “It’s not cheating,” I insist. “I feel nothing for her. Not like I do with you.”

She stares at me for a moment before closing her eyes, a helpless desperation crossing her face. “Gabriel…”

Her tone is pleading, begging me to understand. And as much as I want to convince her otherwise, I won’t be the jerk who doesn’t take no for an answer and ends up ruining everything.

“Okay,” I finally say. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s not you, just the… situation.”

I nod resolutely.

“And please, I don’t want things to be awkward,” she says, looking at me again, gaze still filled with dismay.

“No awkwardness,” I promise. I never want her to feel that way around me, no matter what happens between us. “We’ll be friends.”

“Friends,” she agrees.

“But just know,” I tell her in a low voice, taking a step closer. “If circumstances were different, I wouldn’t stay only friends with you.”

She opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, then shuts it, turning away. “Thank you for understanding.”

Oh, I understand. I just fucking hate it.

I spotMackenzie standing outside the entrance of the hospital as my town car pulls up the next day, the light breeze teasing her hair.

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