Page 98 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire
“Argh.” A sharp pain ricochets through the sole of my foot and up my leg.
I’ve stepped on a sharp fucking stone. Jesus shitting Christ, that hurts.
Wade’s caustic laugh rattles in my ears as I hop around, trying to pick it out of my flesh where it’s buried itself like a tick.
“What the hell’s going on?” Frankie’s voice is right behind me.
No. Fuck, no.
Anything but this. Literally anything. I’ll take a sinkhole opening up below my naked feet and dropping me into Earth’s fiery hot core before this.
She’s there in the doorway, zipping up a hoodie over a T-shirt and sweatpants.
The weight of the entire planet sinks in my stomach.
I can’t believe this is happening.
I have to get Skinner to leave before he opens his big, shitty mouth.
CHAPTER THIRTY
FRANKIE
I rub my eyes as if that will clear away the cobwebs and stop the tornado of confusion swirling in my brain.
After the most amazing night of my life, I was looking forward to easing into the day next to Miller’s warm, naked body.
But I was awakened by a knock on the door and then a bit of a commotion. So I threw on some clothes and came downstairs to find that my morning plans are being ruined by that fucking awful developer. And Miller is standing on the step in just his boxers obviously trying to help me out and get rid of him.
“He’s leaving.” There’s a hint of anger in Miller’s voice that I haven’t heard before. “I’ve told him to go. And he’s going.”
Seeing Wade Skinner is different this time. When he showed up before, I immediately turned into a panicked ball of stress. Now, while my heart is racing with fury thathe dare show his face again, there’s no panic or stress this time—all thanks to Miller’s in-charge energy by my side.
Skinner ignores him and looks at me. “How do you know this guy?” He jerks a thumb at Miller.
“Good God, none of your business. And I warned you last time. I’m calling the cops.” I’m about to turn to head inside to get my phone, but Miller’s words stop me.
“No need,” he says with more dominance and self-assuredness than I’d expect from someone wearing only underwear covered in pictures of tiny chain saws. “I can handle this guy.”
“I’m interested, Miss Channing,” Skinner says. “How did you two meet?”
Christ, this asshole is truly something else.
“What the hell does it matter? Like he said, get the hell off my property.” While my confidence is bolstered by Miller’s presence, my hands still shake in anger at this man’s sheer audacity.
“She said go.” Miller takes a step forward, not even wincing when his foot leaves the doormat and hits the concrete that must be freezing cold. “And I’m saying get the fuck off her property.”
Skinner dodges Miller’s outstretched arm and maintains his focus on me. “It’s just curious. You say you have no desire to sell, yet you’re entertaining Miller Malone in a state of”—he pauses to look him up and down—“undress.”
What?
So he knows Miller? But has his last name wrong? What the hell is going on?
“Malone?”I look from Skinner to Miller while rubbing my forehead. Part of my brain is still warm and cozy inbed and struggling to catch up. “Is he confusing you with someone?”
Skinner laughs the laugh of a cartoon villain. “Did he give you a false name?”
Miller closes his eyes and groans like he’s just been hit in the stomach by a tree trunk.
