Page 1 of The Billionaires' Gamble
1
GABE
“I kissed Gabe.” Kingston’s words echo around the luxurious bedroom.
“What the hell, dude?” I stare at him, lips parted, head tilted because he did not just say what I think he said.
I’m all for honesty and transparency, especially between the three of us. The four of us. But come on!
There’s a time and place for discussions like ‘hey, I’m feeling a certain kind of way about your best friend—your male best friend.’ Finesse goes a long way. Finesse and timing. Is he so removed from the world that he doesn’t get that?
I stare at him over the top of Katherine’s head. He looks as shell-shocked as I feel. Like a cute, confused owl—eyes wide, a slow blink, followed by two faster ones. Brows lifted, jaw dropped.
Katherine turns, sort of slow, like she also can’t believe what just came out of her best friend’s mouth.
When it comes to Kingston Saint, I’ve learned that it could be anything. Sometimes he lacks a filter, which is nice. Sort of endearing, actually. Everyone around me is so professional and painfully guarded.
He’s the opposite. Rolling with the punches. Living life to the fullest. Doing and saying whatever suits him.
“You kissed Gabe?” She asks the question as if to confirm what he said and give him an opportunity to explain. Or change his statement.
For the life of me, I can’t read her tone. It’s not sharp, not disbelieving, not happy.
Carefully neutral, which reminds me of the Katherine I know across the conference table of Winter-Farmington.
King’s lips twitch, like he’s forming his answer on the fly, but thinks better of it. Instead, he nods, his gaze dropping to her.
For a single heartbeat, I swear we’re all holding our breath.
Does he want me to chime in here? I don’t want him to feel alone in this. Fuck, maybe we should have discussed things before Katherine and Alex came back from Paris. At the very least, talked about how to broach the subject with her.
All I know is that I really loved it when she called me her boyfriend. That’s not a title I’ve ever carried before.
Nerd. Yes.
Brainiac. Check.
Tech Tycoon. Double check.
Playboy. Maybe not my finest era, but I’ll own it.
“When?” she asks.
Come on, King. Own your truth.
He gives an anxious whimper.
Too late, bud. You’ve let the proverbial cat out of the bag. Time to pet the kitty and see if she purrs.
“On the elevator,” I supply, when it looks like he can’t form words. “Yesterday.”
“I panicked,” King says.
“I think you’re panicking again,” I murmur.
He shoots me an exasperated look.Not helping.
“Let’s sit down,” I suggest, but immediately think better of it. If he tells her our kiss was a mistake, a distraction in the heat of the moment and didn’t mean anything, I’m going to need some air. “Or maybe I should let you two talk privately.”
