Page 125 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
She glances at Isla, then back at me. "Yes," she mutters, "I’ll do as you please."
"Good." I take in her pale face, her huge eyes, the hair piled on top of her head. I reach down and she flinches, as I pull the pins from her hair.
She gasps and I hear a few murmurs from the women as her hair tumbles around her face. I arrange it about her shoulders to my satisfaction, then nod. "That’s better." I lean down and kiss her cheek. "You’re a good friend," I whisper in her ear before I tug on her earlobe, and she gasps.
"Just don’t expect me to be the same," I growl. Her shoulders tremble. I step back, turn to Isla, "You can ask the guests to come in here, and we’ll have a meet and greet with the press later."
Her forehead scrunches, then she nods, "Fine." She turns to leave.
Amelie walks up to Julia, "Let’s get you freshened up, okay babe?" She hooks her arm through Julia’s and leads her out, with Victoria and Summer at her heels.
I glance around the room, take in the expressions of the rest of my friends. They glare at me as if it’s my fault. "What?" I rake my fingers though my hair. "I’m doing my best," I growl.
"It’s not enough." Edward frowns.
"Do better then," Arpad snaps.
"Now, it’s my fault?" I snap
"Always."
"You bet."
I stare at the traitors, "Whose side are you on?"
"Hers," they reply in one voice.
I dig my fingers into my hair and tug, "You guys can’t be serious."
"Youcan’t be serious, you complete ass." Arpad stalks forward and grabs my collar.
"Hey," I protest, "What’s wrong with you?"
"What’s wrong with you?" he snaps back. "The woman’s in love with you, you shithead. She’s trying to save your bloody soul—which is a lost cause, if you ask me, but whatever—and this is how you repay her?"
"How?"
"You know how." He drags me up by my collar, "You’re being a complete, unreasonable prick—nothing new and I don’t care— Hell, none of us cared if you stayed where you were, hiding behind your wall of grief like a coward—"
"I’m not a coward," I argue.
"Oh," he laughs, "that’s not what I see."
"Don’t say it," I warn him, "don’t…"
"It’s clear as hell that you want her by your side, even as you do your best to push her away. You want her to help you see the light, yet you do everything possible to drag her down into the darkness with you. Just like you’ve held the rest of us at arm's length, but here’s what you should understand..."
"What?" My heart begins to race. There’s a ball of fucking emotions in my throat that won’t go away as much as I swallow. "You may as well as complete your little speech," I say through gritted teeth.
"We’re not going anywhere," Arpad snaps.
Behind him, Edward chuckles. Sinclair and Saint stare at me with determination in their eyes. Weston folds his arms over his chest and raises one eyebrow. Jace crosses his legs, leans against the wall. "You heard the man," he says.
"That woman is worth ten—"
"A hundred—" Edward chimes in.
"A hundred," Arpad corrects himself, "of you." He nods. "And she cares about your fucking black heart—God knows why—and the rest of us can see what you can’t."
