Page 101 of The Elusive Billionaire
Savvy rolls over,and it sounds like water sloshing around in a half-empty bottle.
“How much water do you drink?”
“What?” She sounds as pissed off as I do.
She shifts in the bed again. We might as well be on a cruise ship for the ocean-sized waves moving around in her belly. I swear to God, if she filled up on water so she wouldn’t have to eat, I might strangle her myself.
Instead of bickering with me, she laughs. The sound hits me hard in the chest—it always does—and knocks the air out of my ire. All I have left is a heavy sigh.
“I didn’t drink enough today, so I chugged a few glasses before bed. I guess it hasn’t settled yet.”
The moonlight slips in through the cracks of the curtains, highlighting her face.
I don’t bother with the pillow wall anymore. I want her next to me.
Lifting the covers, I slide all the way across the bed and then take it a step further until I’m hovering over her. With my weight resting on my forearms, I stare down at her, loving that I’ve caught her off guard. Loving how her chest heaves. Loving howshe licks her lips and arches her spine—subconsciously pressing her chest into mine—right where it belongs.
“What are you doing, Grey?”
I shake my head because I don’t fucking know.
“You said our physical relationship was over, that you had more restraint than me.”
Leave it to her to continually call me out on my bullshit, even after sleeping together nearly every night for the last two weeks.
“And then you went and begged.” My words skim across her cheek. If I just lowered my lips a little more…
She smiles, but there’s a sadness to it that guts me.
“I say a lot of really dumb shit, Monroe. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“You do,” she says, her voice low and throaty but distant, as though her mind is a million miles from here.
I lower my hips to hers, slowly enough that she can push me away if that’s what she wants. Her lashes flutter, but she doesn’t look away, and she doesn’t try to move.
“But maybe you were right,” she says. “This is already too complicated.”
My mouth inches closer to hers. “Or maybe I’m just an idiot.”
“Finally,” she whispers, and my cock jumps in relief. “Something we can agree on.”
Such a ballbuster. But I laugh, and her smile presses her cheek to mine.
A rumble like thunder works through her belly, and we both freeze.
“Tell me,” I plead.
“Tell you what?” She’s no longer soft and pliant beneath me. She’s shoring up her walls again.
I know she should come to me on her own. I know what all the research says—it’s not about me. But I’m an asshole who’ssilently falling into madness because I don’t know how to help, so I ask the one thing I definitely shouldn’t.
“Why are you starving yourself?”
With my weight holding her down and lying cheek to cheek, I feel the instant she stops breathing.
Pushing her isn’t the right step. I’ve read every article I could find on disordered eating.
I fucked up. Again.
