Page 62 of The Billionaire's Kiss
“I am. I haven’t seen or spoken to her in months, and she has no idea I’ve come to Ireland. I have no idea what will happen, and I’m nervous as hell.”
“Ah, you love her.” He nodded knowingly.
“I do.”
“Ya, I love my girl too. But I’m not positive that she loves me.”
“Mine used to love me, I do know that much. The real question is, does she love me still? And is she free to start seeing me again?”
“Well, good luck,” he said. “I’ve got to face my challenge now.”
“No time like the present.” I looked back into the mirror. “I’ve gotta clean up a little before I head out there.”
“See ya.” He left me alone, and I took several more deep breaths before feeling somewhat confident enough to go out there and find her.
With my head held high, shoulders back, I walked out of that restroom with a confidence that I didn’t entirely feel. But they always say to put on the face of the man you want to be. Or some shit like that.
Spotting the sign above the bar, I went in through the open door—and stopped in my tracks. My heart stopped, and so did my breathing.
The man I’d met in the restroom was on his knee, the black box in his hand, and standing in front of him was Orla.
I’m too fucking late.
