Page 16 of Falling for the Wrong Billionaire
I raise an eyebrow, my lips quirking up in a teasing smile. “I didn’t know billionaires still did their grocery shopping themselves.”
Liam laughs, a genuine, deep laugh that makes me feel a little lighter. “Billionaire, huh? How’d you figure that one out?”
I freeze for a split second. The words are already out of my mouth before I realize what I’ve said. Billionaire. I’ve never actually heard him say it. I’ve actually spent most of my leisure looking him up. To say I'm stunned by who he really is, is an understatement. But I can't tell him that, I'll look like a stalker. And before I can stop myself, I blurt out the first explanation that comes to my mind.
“Emma mentioned it,” I say quickly, trying to sound casual. But as soon as I say it, I feel the tension in the air. It’s not convincing, even to me.
He arches an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Really? Emma, huh?”
I feel my cheeks warm. “Yeah. She mentioned you once, a while ago, and I kind of put two and two together.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but he lets it slide, not pressing further. “I see. Well, it’s true, I suppose,” he says with a shrug, “but I don’t really talk about it much. I’ve never been one for the whole ‘showing off’ thing.”
I nod, understanding exactly what he means. I’ve always thought there was something different about him. He’s not like the people who use their wealth as a shield or as a way to command attention. There’s something understated about him — the way he moves, the way he talks. It’s almost like he doesn’t care about the labels.
“I get that,” I say, my voice softer. “Sometimes it’s nice to just do the small things for yourself.”
He smiles, his gaze lingering on me just a moment too long, and I feel it again — that pull between us. “Exactly. That’s why I’m here, in the grocery store, buying things I could easily have someone do for me. It’s just... nice to do things for yourself once in a while,” he mimics.
I can’t help but smile at his sincerity. It’s sweet. “It is. And it makes you seem... normal.” I say it lightly, but I mean it. There’s something refreshingly normal about him, despite everything.
“Well, I do try,” he says with a wink, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “I’m not all fancy meetings and business deals.”
I laugh softly, not realizing just how easy it is to be around him. We continue walking down the aisle together, chatting about the usual things. I find myself relaxing, enjoying the simplicity of this. It’s almost like nothing else matters when we’re talking. The world fades away, and it’s just us, standing in the middle of the grocery store like... well, like normal people.
Eventually, we finish up the shopping, and Liam offers to walk me to my car. It’s a short walk across the parking lot, but even the distance feels too charged. The air between us is thick with unspoken words, unacknowledged feelings, and I don’t know how to handle it.
“Thanks for helping me shop,” I say awkwardly as we stop by my car. I open the door, but I hesitate for a second before turning to face him.
Liam smiles, his eyes softening. “I’m glad we ran into each other.”
I feel my pulse quicken at the way he says it, the way his eyes linger on mine. It’s like he’s saying something more than just the words. Something that I don’t want to acknowledge, but I can’t seem to ignore.
“Yeah, me too,” I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
We stand there for a beat, neither of us quite knowing what to do next. The moment stretches, and I feel the weight of everything I’ve been trying to ignore pressing down on me.
I clear my throat, trying to shake off the feeling. “Thanks, Liam. I... I’ll see you around.”
He nods, a soft, lingering smile on his lips. “I’ll see you around, Lucy.”
And then, with one last glance, he turns to leave. I climb into my car, the engine roaring to life, but I don’t drive off immediately. Instead, I sit there for a moment, watching Liam walk away.
And that’s when it hits me.
I like him. I like him in a way I can’t explain.
Chapter seven
Liam
I should be thinking about the clinic. The project. Anything but Lucy.
But the second I step inside this morning, it’s her face that flashes through my mind — the way she laughed in the produce aisle, teasing me for inspecting bananas like they were fine wine. That afternoon shouldn't still be stuck in my head. And yet, here we are.
I move down the hallway, tablet in hand, pretending I’m here to check system logs. Truth is, I’ve already checked them twice.
I’m restless. And I hate that it’s because I want to see her again.
