Page 105 of The Grumpy Billionaire

“I know! That’s the problem, Hugo. It’s you. It’s always been you. The way I love you, it scares me—it’s too huge, how much I love you. It’s like it’s been there forever. The idea of you deciding one day I’m this pathetic person…”

It would destroy me.

I shake my head. I can’t even say it.

I start unbuttoning his linen shirt, afraid to look up. He called me courageous back when I came to town, but I don’t feel courageous. “The fear made me stupid.”

“Stella.”

“Well, your nice clothes are ruined,” I say, feeling confused and chaotic—even for me. I can’t believe that I just blurted out that I love him.

“Stella.” He squats to eye level and stops my unbuttoning activities. He presses my palms to his chest. He’s beautiful under the pounding water, this man I’ve known and loved for so many years. “You love me.”

“How could I not?” I smile. “I love you. I always have.”

He looks so happy, and the feel of his beating heart under my palms, let’s just say it’s madness how much I love him.

“So let’s do this,” he says. “No more of this no-strings bullshit. I want all the strings with you. I want every string possible. I want to be together.”

“I do, too, but—”

“No buts, no reservations, no fucking cologne. I’m not going anywhere, Stella. I understand that some facsimile of me couldn’t see what you are really worth, and it hurt in a big way, but you need to know that I’m not gonna do that. I’m gonna prove it to you.”

I suck in a breath. “You’re a scientist. You know you can never say never.”

There’s this flicker in his gaze where logical-science Hugo realizes that I’m technically right and I regret saying it. “Screw it. I’m saying never. What do you think?”

I smile. “Screw it. Let’s do it. It’s too late, anyway.”

Hugo’s pulling off my tank top. “We’re dating now. I’m calling it.”

“We’re dating.”

Our clothes come off.

He’s kissing me, and then he’s kissing my breasts. I spare a glance at his poor linen shirt.

“Stop looking at it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t ruin for you.”

“Nothing?” I ask as he pushes down my sopping wet sweats.”

“Nothing.” He kneels in front of me, clutching my ass, face to my pussy. “Also, don’t think the tawdry and lurid sex is off the table.”

* * *

We headout the door of his building later that day, on a mission to get falafel sandwiches from my favorite food truck, which is two blocks away, according to my app.

“How do you know about Jonathan?” I ask.

“Because Charlie keeps me updated,” he says.

“So Charlie just blabs about my love life to you?”

He gives me a sly glance. “I get it out of him.”

“You know Charlie would be very unhappy with this situation.”

“Very,” Hugo says. “But it’s not up to him.”

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