Page 79 of The Grumpy Billionaire

It’s not just the sex, but it’s his idiosyncrasies—how ticklish he is on the backs of his thighs. The warm, solid feeling of his chest when I lay my head there. The long, low growl he makes when he comes, like a brutish bear. The cute birthmark on his right butt cheek that he didn’t even know about.

My stomach rumbles. Hugo kisses me there. “We need to get you some food,” he mumbles.

“Hey, why does everyone think you’re allergic to pineapple?” I ask.

He kisses me. “I thought this was a no-strings, no-life-details affair.”

I shove my fingers into his thick, dark hair. “I’m gonna make you tell me.”

“Doubtful.”

I frown. It’s driving me a little bonkers—why would he tell people that? It’s so unlike him to lie, and this is a whopper. But he’s right. That was my rule.

My stomach rumbles again.

“The cabinet next to the mini fridge usually has a good selection of energy bars,” he says. “I’d recommend the almond dark chocolate.”

I laugh. “What, are you a connoisseur of hotel snack selections? Right down to the types of energy bars? How would you know…” The question dies on my lips.

He brings other women here.

He seems to realize what he’s just revealed. “Or we could grab sandwiches on the way back,” he says quickly. “Maybe call ahead to that Italian deli.”

“I’m good.” I climb out of bed, grab my purse, and snatch up my clothes, which I seem to have thrown everywhere.

I practically sprint into the bathroom without so much as a backwards glance lest he give me some insider tips on the merits of various Hotel Luxe-supplied toiletries, which he probably could, being that he brings his women here.

What did I expect? It’s not like he’s a monk. Of course he would do hotel quickies.

I brush my hair in the mirror.

You wanted an impersonal, tawdry, no-strings affair, and you got it,I tell myself.You are avoiding the horror show of the heart. You are staying upstairs where there’s popcorn and light. Be happy, goddamnit!

I tell myself that bringing me to a place where he brings other women is the perfect bat signal to my subconscious—don’t get any big ideas, because this thing is sex only.

I put on lipstick, rolling on with my pep talk. It’s good for this to be clarified, because Hugo has the power to break my heart in a way that makes my Jonathan heartbreak look like a skip daisy patch.

And I definitely don’t grab one of the energy bars.

ChapterThirty-Four

Stella

One of thelesser-known downsides to being a teen or preteen girl and having a crush on your brother’s best friend is that your crush is frequently hanging around in the place where you live your life.

This might seem like a good thing, and in some ways it was because I got to see Hugo a lot, but I’d find myself putting way too much thought into what I might wear for something as low-key as lying on the couch in front of the TV, because what if Hugo came around? And then there was the temptation to wear makeup twenty-four seven—including foundation, a temptation that I gave into a lot. Not great for the skin, let’s just say.

But I wanted Hugo to think I was pretty. I might not have been able to contain myself when he was around, but at least I could look nice, and maybe he could think of me as more than a pesky scamp of a sister.

Sometimes I imagined he did see me as more. There were times during the more boisterous dinner table discussions—by which I mean I was being boisterous, and everyone was probably wishing I’d zip it—that I’d look over and imagine that he was on board with my fanciful ideas.

Or was he, too, wishing I’d zip it?

Or I’d be ready to go out, all dressed up, waiting by the front door for my girlfriends to pick me up, and I’d look across the foyer and catch his eye from where he usually sat at the kitchen table, and I’d imagine we were having a moment, or maybe a millisecond, but then he’d smile politely and turn back to Charlie or look back down at his phone. And I’d want to think he was looking at me with admiration, but it could’ve also been him wondering why my friends were always so late.

There was one time when I was waiting for my friends that he walked through on his way upstairs and stopped short, clearly surprised I was there. “Wow,” he blurted, “you really look nice!”

It was an unexpected thing for him to say, and I had the thought that it caught us both off guard.

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