Page 55 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

I lean into him. Benny is kissing me and I don’t know what anything is. We’re panting, falling together through some kind of weird trapdoor of us, and I don’t even care.

I’m practically grinding against him. I wish that we weren’t in a place full of people, because I’ve never been so turned on in my life.

Does he feel the same way I do? Surely he does!

Then, as suddenly as he started, he stops. He seems to get his breath under control.

He’s regarding me strangely and something changes in his eyes; it’s as if a neutral expression has come over his face. His smile is sexy, but more cool than warm, now. Slowly, he slides his hand over my hair over my head, then he takes my ponytail in his fist, gripping it hard.

He tilts my head just right to come in for another kiss, and lord help me, I’m all there for it…except this kiss is different. It’s not so much passion as technique. It’s good technique—very good, actually—and I begin to get lost in it, lost in the feathery-light lip-nips mixed with masterful mashes.

But it doesn’t feel like him.

He pulls away, looking all cool and smug. “Well, if anybody had any doubts about us, they don’t now.”

My heart drops through my socks. So the kiss was all for show? It meant nothing to him?

I pull away, straightening my spine, utterly crushed.

“Yeah, that was some Oscar-winning shit right there!” This I say breezily, like I’m not trembling down to my toes. “You spot a nosy neighbor or something?”

His gaze moves over my shoulder. “I’ve seen a few,” he says.

This final confirmation is a cannonball through my belly.

“Not surprising, given that this is my neighborhood,” he adds.

I realize here that we’re a mere block from his place. So that’s it? Just one big faker party? “You were very enthusiastic,” I say.

He brings Spencer to a bench on the side of the path and sits, pulling out his phone, casually scrolling.

I stand there, fists clenched, hating that it was fake.

I was so into it, and it wasfake. Was he just messing with me? Trying different kissing styles on me and then tossing me aside? Was any of it even real?

I move to stand in front of him. “Very enthused,” I repeat. Wishful thinking, maybe. I’m still whipped on this man.

“I work the stuffing out of my assets. It’s part of how I got to where I am today.” He scrolls his phone, scroll, scroll, scroll, leaving me alone with his words. “Alverson’s nearly here,” he adds.

“Forget it, I’m walking.”

He looks up, surprised. “Francine,” he says. “Alverson’s not a block away.”

I turn back to him and give him the biggest fake smile I can muster. “See you at home, honey!” With that, I head down the sidewalk. My knee flares with pain. And wildly, stupidly, I know somehow deep down that it’s hurting him, too.

God, I barely even recognize myself.

Thirteen

Francine

I raise my hand,signaling to the bartender that our side of the bar needs another round of drinks.

“Wait,” Tabitha says, covering the top of her pink drink, “I’m good for now.”

“I’m good, too,” Noelle says. “In fact, I’m switching over to kombucha!” And then as if that weren’t enough of a suggestion, she adds, “It’s not like you to be drinking while you’re in rehearsal mode.”

I point a finger at her. “You think I’m schnockered?” It would’ve probably been good for me not to use a word that gives away the fact that I am a bit schnockered. “In fact, tomorrow’s my day off.” I turn to Antonio. “Dude. Another. You have to.”

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