Page 81 of The Grumpy Billionaire

“Have you seen this, Hugo? The hotel hair conditioner is named Pure Essence Platinum Silk Mane Radiance Elixir! Just two of those words would’ve been fine, but they had to name it all seven! Just for their hotel hair conditioner! Did they have a brainstorming session and decide everybody’s idea should be included in one giant name?”

She’s just laughing. She brings it over so that I can read it for myself. It’s just the sort of thing she always thinks is funny.

I take the bottle and read it aloud. “Pure Essence Platinum Silk Mane Radiance Elixir!” I look up, and she’s grinning at me—that’s how delighted she is.

And I think that my heart might explode.

And it’s here that it hits me: I love her.

I actually love this woman.

All those years of holding back my emotions around Stella. All those years of battling the supposed annoyance and torment and distraction of Stella’s existence.

It wasn’t any of those things.

It was love.

All along it was love. I loved her back then. I love her now.

I love her so much, it’s incomprehensible.

I love this woman.

All this love that I keep stuffed down, clamped down. I didn’t let myself know.

She takes back the little bottle. “Right? Is more the new less or something like that?”

She gives the bottle a humorous frown.

I don’t know the answer to her question. All I know is that I love her, and that I’ll always want more from her. More and more and more.

ChapterThirty-Six

Stella

There’ssomething up with Hugo. His scowl is missing, but it’s not just that. There’s a sort of lightness to him.

“Do I have a carbuncle—”

“Stop.” He takes the small bottle from my hands and puts it on the hotel room dresser. He wears this wonderous expression I’ve never seen, and the light in the hotel room seems different, like something weird and serious is happening. He cups my cheeks—gently—like my face is a fragile and truly enigmatic bird. “I love you, Stella.”

I blink.

My heart swoops.

Hugo loves me? He loves me?Swoop!

Noooooo—no swooping!

I take hold of his wrists and remove his hands. “Hugo—no—”

“I love you,” he says, like it’s this stunning discovery he’s just made.

“Be serious, Hugo.”

“I’m in love with you. I am.”

Fear wells up inside me as the wounds from my past flare back to life. “Dude. We just had sex, and suddenly you’re in love with me? Do you know what a cliché that is?”

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