Page 54 of Falling for the Wrong Billionaire
I can’t help but think about how much I’ve started to feel like I belong here. How easy it is to forget the world outside and just… be with him.
But deep down, I know the truth. This is temporary. This is just a moment. And when it’s over, I’ll have to leave.
But for now, I push those thoughts aside. I’ll deal with them later.
Right now, I’m here. With him. And that’s all that matters.
No, that’s not all. How am I going to leave and not hurt this wonderful man?
Chapter nineteen
Liam
When I step out of the car and round to her side, I catch her staring at the grand entrance of the Ocean Bay Community Hall, her fingers clasped tightly around the little black clutch in her hands.
She doesn’t notice me at first — she’s too busy taking in the sight of the white-lit archway above the double doors, the soft strains of a string quartet drifting faintly through the open windows, and the buzz of people in formal wear mingling just outside.
It’s beautiful, sure. But nothing here tonight even comes close to how she looks standing here now.
Her dress is simple — navy blue, sleeveless, a subtle shimmer in the fabric that catches the light — but the way it hugs her figure, the way it brings out the softness in her shoulders and the glow in her skin, makes it impossible for me to look away.
I reach for her hand, my thumb brushing gently over her knuckles as I murmur, “You ready?”
She startles slightly, her eyes snapping up to mine. And even now, even when she’s clearly nervous, her lips curve into a shy smile.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “I think so.”
I grin, leaning a little closer, just enough that only she can hear. “You don’t sound convinced.”
Her laugh is quiet, almost self-conscious. “I just… don’t want to embarrass you.”
That stops me cold for a second, and my chest tightens.
I step closer, lowering my voice even more. “Lucy… nothing about you could ever embarrass me. Don’t you know how proud I am to have you here?”
Her cheeks flush at that, and she glances down, fidgeting with her clutch.
I take that as a win, though.
A week ago, when I invited her to the charity gala, she looked at me like I was out of my mind. Like she thought there was no way she belonged in a place like this.
I had to promise her — over and over — that it wasn’t a big deal. That it wasn’t the kind of gala she was probably imagining. Every two years, Nate, Bryan, and I host this gathering.
Sure, there are a few big names — rich friends from out of town who contribute to the town fund and help us support orphanages worldwide — but we keep it small. Intimate. The whole town is welcome. No one here cares about status.
I wanted her to see it.
But even now, as I guide her toward the doors, I can feel how tense she is next to me. Her arm is stiff, her steps just a little too careful.
Halfway up the steps, I lean down and whisper into her ear, “Hey. Relax. You look perfect. And if you want to leave, all you have to do is say the word, and we’re gone.”
She glances up at me, surprised, and then shakes her head, a little more sure of herself now. “No. I want to stay. I’d… like to enjoy my night.”
I search her eyes for a moment, making sure she really means it. And when she nods again, a little more confidently this time, I feel something ease in my chest.
“Alright,” I murmur, giving her hand a little squeeze. “Let’s go in, then.”
The double doors swing open, and we step inside.
