Page 60 of No More Billionaires

“And yet, when I’m in New York and walk into a party or even at work—I get a littletoomuch attention from women,” Larson said. “And I know why. I’m not stupid. That’s why I’ve generally dated girls from my own…”

“From your social class, other rich girls—I get it.”

“Right. Yeah, it sounds so snobby, doesn’t it? It sounds like a nice problem to have—people kissing up to me, women making themselvesavailable—but I’m tired of being used. I mean, something’s wrong when Victoria’s Secret models are coming on tome.”

He laughed, and I laughed with him. “Don’t sell yourself short. I think plenty of women would cross a room to talk to you, even if your name was Joe Schmoe.”

“But how would I know? I haven’t met very many people in my life I could trust—who didn’t want something from me. Like you. You’re real. You don’t care about my family’s name or money. You treat me just like you’d treat anyone else.”

And now I felt like scum.

I’d actually treated him less kindly than I would treat anyone else, because hewasn’tanyone else. He was much more dangerous than all of them put together.

Larson gripped my hand tighter. “I’m sorry I was pushy earlier. It’s really none of my business what happened with you and your fiancé—and afterwards. Iwasa know-it-all ass, and I hurt your feelings.”

“No. You weren’t. I was just being defensive because you were right about me, too. I’ve been going through sort of a super-early mid-life crisis, I guess—thinking about some of the choices I’ve made in my life and what I really want, who I want to be.”

“Because of your broken engagement? That had to suck. You must miss him.”

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “Well, not as much as I would have expected, actually. I mean… I loved Mark—I think. But things were never quite the same after I moved back to Atlanta from Peachtree Valley. I felt it, but I was too chicken to admit it because we were already engaged and I’d already quit my job for him. It’s really more about me. You were right. I used to be really different—look really different. I was a real hairspray-and-makeup girl. I never went to high school a single day with my hair in a ponytail. I never went to the pool or the beach or the mailbox, for God’s sake, without my makeup done. It’s how I was raised—to be an attractive package—to be polite and ladylike and lovely andpleasingat all times.”

I left out the part about Momma and her grand plan for me.

It was just too embarrassing to think of telling Larson I’d been trained to catch a rich husband—that I’d actually gone along with it in the past.

Taking a deep breath, I went on. “At some point—I guess it was after Mark called off the wedding—something just… snapped inside me.”

“So you always hated the makeup and high heels and stuff then?” Larson asked.

“No—that’s the funny thing—I actually loved it. But… how can I explain this to a guy?”

I paused to find the right words. “In a way, it’s like you not wanting to be desired for your trust fund and famous name. I was never sure if people liked me for all the artificial stuff I was applying to my body, or for who I was underneath. I don’t want someone who wants me for superficial things like looks. I mean, what will happen someday when it’s all gone?”

“You’ll always be beautiful,” he said in an ultra-serious tone. “Beauty like yours might change over time, but it’s always still there. Just like avoiding makeup and clingy clothing can’t take it away, neither can getting older.”

Larson paused. “You’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Wow.

My heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings. It was so loud in my ears I wondered if he could hear the whirring.

“Why are you saying this?” I whispered.

“Because it’s true. Because I like you. Because it’s what I think about when I’m with you. And apparently, I can’t keep from spilling my guts around you. You’re a very special person, Kenley. It’s been killing me not to say it sooner—and to stop myself from doing… other things.”

Don’t ask. Don’t ask.

“What things?”

Larson lifted his hand and gently slid his fingers through my hair to the back of my head. He held me in place, moving toward me oh-so-slowly.

His hot breath struck my lips in a steady rhythm as he paused millimeters away from making contact.

He’s giving me a chance to say no.

I couldn’t. I didn’t want to push him away anymore.

I lifted my head from my pillow to meet him in the middle, and our mouths joined in the sweetest, warmest kiss I’d ever experienced in my life.

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