Page 48 of The Elusive Billionaire
“I spoke to Braxton and Cian yesterday. I hate talking to Cian on the phone. I can’t understand a word the Irish ass says.”
Her lips curl up with the tiniest glimmer of a grin. “You get used to him. He’s a really great guy. You should feel lucky he considers you a friend because he hates most people.”
I don’t think he hates them—he just has a very low tolerance for stupid. The guy would do anything for just about anyone as long as you’re not a dick.
“Yeah, well, I’ve never needed many friends.” I keep my focus on the upturned trees on the other side of the new pond.
The heat of her stare sets fire to the side of my neck. My pulse beats erratically, and I know it’s because everything in me is screaming to look at her. But I can’t think clearly when I do, and it’s become a daily internal battle I lose every time.
“You’d have more if you let people in.” Before I can formulate a response, she continues. “What else did she say? What’s going on out there?”
“She was a little cagey about it, to be honest. But now that I think about it, so were Braxton and Cian.”
“Do you think they’re keeping us out here on purpose?”
She’s cute when she’s flustered.
Can Stockholm syndrome happen when you’re stranded with someone during a natural disaster?She’s cute when she’s flustered?What the actual hell is happening to me?
I like her, I hate her, I want to fuck her into submission until she says she’s mine.
Wait. What? I’m losing my goddamn mind.
“They are, aren’t they?”
I forgot what she asked me.
“Why would they keep us out here?”
Oh, right. I tug on my T-shirt, missing my suits more with each passing conversation. “I don’t know,” I say. “Brax just kept saying this was the best place for us right now and that they’re working on cleaning up the mess. The way he said it was…odd.”
Feisty Savvy rears to the forefront, and she taps one of her feet, hands on her hips, a slight scowl pulling at her brows. How do you not stare at her when she prowls like a goddess of war?
“Clover said something similar. But she made it sound like it was a problem with the road they had to clear before they could get up here.”
I nod. That’s what Cian implied too. Unfortunately for them, Braxton is a shit liar.
She begins to pace. Six days cooped up with her hasn’t been as terrible as I thought it would be. After our bedroom confessional, something in me shifted. I still don’t trust her, but perhaps I’m evolving and at least attempting to understand her more.
“Savvy, you’ve actively avoided talking about your past, but Quinn explicitly mentioned it. What the hell could you have done that could evoke a—what she called a nationwide scandal.”
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, and then I realize it’s because she’s trying to keep her chin from quivering.
“Jesus, Monroe. I’ll fix it, just tell me what it is.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, it hits me just how true they are. My mind may want to hate her, but my heart wants to fix her entire world and then wrap her in bubble wrap coated in titanium so nothing can get to her again.
“Tell me your honest opinion, Patch.”
I rear back. Is she drunk? “Patch?” I grind out. “What’s that about?”
Her smile is sad. “You’re a fixer, always trying to patch the holes in the ship before anyone realizes it’s sinking. But some people are destined to go down with the boat, and you have to let them.”
That’s never going to happen.
She shrugs. “Plus now that I know it annoys you, I think I’ll stick with it. It’s better than the other names I call you in my head.”
Heat curls around in my stomach, and my throat tightens. “What names, Monroe?”
“Drill Bit, for one. Because you’re always forcing your nose where you don’t belong.”
