Page 1 of Falling for the Wrong Billionaire
Chapter one
Liam
"Can we please just… not do this right now?"
I turn away from Pamela, trying to keep my tone casual, but there’s a flicker of irritation hiding underneath. She’s got that look, the one that says she’s not taking no for an answer. The look that’s been following me anytime I'm in town.
"Come on, Liam. You’re always so busy," she pouts, twirling a strand of her hair. "You could at least grab coffee with me. I mean, how long has it been? Since high school?"
I force a tight smile, trying to mask my discomfort. "Pamela, I’m just… I’m really not looking for anything right now. You know how it is."
But she’s persistent. Man alive, she’s persistent. Pamela’s always been the type to chase after me for as long as I can remember. At first it was cute but now it's anything but that. Weare adults and I expected that her incantations about me would have been long buried.
"Don’t be like that," she insists, moving a step closer, her perfume invading my senses. "Just one drink. You and me. Catch up. Nothing serious."
"We both know that's not what you want. I don't know how many times I need to say this but I'm not the man for you. Can't you see there is no spark between us?"
"But…"
"There is no “but” Pamela. You're a sweet girl and you deserve someone who will reciprocate your feelings. I'm not that person,"
Her expression drops before she says,
"You won't even try,"
I almost let out a frustrating groan. I glance around. The town’s familiar faces are walking by, oblivious to the scene playing out in front of me. It’s not exactly how I envisioned my morning walk going. I've been lucky to be out of her radar since I got back to town eight weeks ago after I just launched one of my biggest tech machines, which is now fetching me billions of dollars barely two months after launch.
"Sorry, Pamela. I’ve really got to—"
And then, just as I’m about to make my escape, a flash of movement catches my eye. A woman. She’s struggling with a pair of ferrets on a leash, clearly trying to keep them from darting off in different directions on the boardwalk. It’s the most chaotic, yet oddly charming sight.
She’s clearly new. Her hair’s the color of autumn leaves, her style a bit mismatched in a cute way and there’s a sort of quiet energy around her that makes everything else seem irrelevant.
I feel a tug of something, an immediate curiosity. It’s not like I don’t get attention around here. I run a tech empire, I’ve got my own beachside estate, and I know how to turn on the charmwhen needed. But this? This woman? She doesn’t fit the usual type. I’m intrigued.
"Sorry, Pamela," I say, cutting her off. "I really have to go."
I step away before she can protest, making my way toward the woman with the ferrets. I watch as she tugs on one of the ferret’s leashes, but the little critter, wriggles free and bolts toward the edge of the boardwalk.
I can’t help it. I’m already moving, stepping into her path just in time to catch the ferret by the scruff of its neck.
"Gotcha." I chuckle, looking up to meet her eyes.
She’s frozen for a moment, staring at me like I just sprouted a second head. Her eyes are wide, but she quickly recovers, managing a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It’s like she wasn’t expecting help, or maybe, she wasn’t expecting me to be the one offering it.
"You’re, uh, pretty fast," she says, her voice soft, almost apologetic. She takes a step forward and gently reclaims the ferret from my hands. I feel a tingling sensation as our fingers brush. The need to touch her hand again is overwhelming.
"Yeah, well. I’ve had my fair share of wild chases." I smirk. “Liam West.” I extend my hand, my voice steady, though my heart is pounding just from the proximity.
Her eyes meet mine, and for a second, everything around us fades. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against mine, and it’s like the world suddenly shifts. Her touch is electric, soft and warm, sending a jolt straight through me. It’s subtle, but unmistakable, like a spark igniting in a dark room.
“Lucy Whittier.” Her voice is almost a whisper as she shakes my hand, the touch brief but lingering in the air between us. I feel the hesitation in her grip, as if she’s unsure whether to hold on or let go, and I’m almost certain she felt it too — the undeniable pull, the electricity that crackles between us in the simplest touch.
Before I can catch my breath, she pulls her hand away quickly, almost as if the contact itself startled her. My fingers tingle where hers once were, aching with the need to feel the warmth of her hand again, to somehow prolong the spark that flared between us.
I watch her, trying to keep my expression neutral, but I can’t stop the heat creeping into my chest. She seems to notice, her gaze flicking nervously to the side as if she’s trying to shake off the intensity that just passed between us.
But all I can think about is the way her soft fingers brushed against mine, how it felt like everything inside me surged to life. I ache to touch her again, to feel that same connection. But I hold back, my heart still thumping in my chest.
