Page 29 of My Billionaire Boss Crush

“You do like someone.” Summer, ever the keen girl, bounces in her seat excitedly. “Tell me, tell me who it is, please,” she begs.

I look into Blair’s eyes, searching for answers. Our gazes lock, and it feels as if the world around us fades into the background, leaving only the two of us in this intimate bubble of vulnerability.

“No one,” Blair whispers. There's a silent understanding between us, and I see it then. I see a recognition of the unspoken emotions that linger beneath the surface. It's as if we're both waiting for the other to take the first step to bridge the gap that separates friendship from something more profound. Then, she looks away, a sad expression in her eyes. “There’s no one,” she repeats.

As we bask in the glow of this perfect evening, I realize that regardless of the uncertainty that lies ahead, I can no longer deny the truth.

My feelings for Blair extend far beyond mere physical attraction.

Two hours later, we’re all seated in the living room, cozied up under a large blanket, with Summer seated in between Blair and me. She had pleaded with Blair to stay longer and watch a movie with us when the latter announced that it was time for her to go.

Of course, Blair had said yes, unable to deny my daughter anything, even though I could sense the change in her demeanor. Those eyes still maintained the sadness they revealed during dinner.

Neither of us has said a word to each other, only exchanging fleeting glances in between the rom-com movie Summer picked out, even though Summer’s light snores have been filling the room for a while now.

We’re halfway through the movie when raindrops start to drum against the windowpane, creating a soothing symphony that reverberates through the house. The skies have opened up, unleashing a torrential downpour that shows no sign of abating.

“Oh no, it’s raining,” Blair sits up and stares out the window, watching the relentless cascade with vivid worry on her face. “I need to go.” She pulls herself up gently to avoid waking Summer up.

“What?” I sit up, unable to stand because my daughter has her head in my lap. “You can’t leave yet; it doesn’t sound like the rain is going to let up anytime soon.”

Blair whips her head at me, pulling the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “It’s fine. I can order an Uber.” She pulls out her phone and types away, staring at it dejectedly for a beat. “…there’s none available.” She bites her lip worriedly, and I refrain from thinking of how I want to be the one biting them. Blue eyes meet mine again. “Maybe your driver could take me?”

I shake my head. “Austin isn’t here.” The storm rages on, and I can't bear the thought of Blair navigating treacherous roads in such inclement weather. The concern for her safety propels me into action, and I eventually stand, gently placing Summer’s head on the couch. I approach Blair with an earnest plea. "Blair, the rain is unforgiving tonight. It's not safe for you to go back. Please, stay here."

She looks at me, a mix of surprise and gratitude evident in her eyes. I can tell that she's considering my offer, her thoughts mirroring my own concerns. The unspoken connection between us heightens the intensity of the moment, and the chilled room seems to have heated up.

"But what about Summer?" she asks, sparing a glance at my daughter, who hasn’t so much as stirred since the heavy rain began, her voice tinged with hesitation.

I take a deep breath, understanding the weight of her question. Summer is my priority, and I would never do anything to jeopardize her well-being or make her uncomfortable. Reassuringly, I respond, "Summer is a sound sleeper. Besides, she won’t mind if it means keeping you safe. Please?"

Blair ponders my words for a moment, her eyes flickering with a mix of apprehension and longing. She understands the implications of staying the night and the potential complications it could bring to our already delicate dynamic. But the storm outside and the genuine concern in my eyes tug at her heartstrings.

Finally, she relents, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. "Alright, if you're sure it won't be a problem, I'll stay."

Relief floods through me, mingling with an undercurrent of anticipation. The decision feels right, as if the storm itself has conspired to bring us closer together, to grant us this opportunity to be together even though I know nothing can happen between us.

I gently carry Summer in my arms, beckoning for Blair to follow. Once I tuck my daughter in, I shut the door behind us.

Blair and I make our way to the next guest bedroom, our steps echoing in the quiet house. The room is cozy, adorned with soft, inviting linens and a warm, comforting ambiance. I can't help but notice the subtle shift in energy as we step into this intimate space, the air crackling with a newfound tension.

"Thank you for doing this," I say sincerely, my voice barely above a whisper. "I genuinely worry about your safety, and I'm grateful you're willing to stay."

Blair's eyes meet mine, and her gaze is filled with a mixture of gratitude and something more. The unspoken desire lingers between us, an electric current that charges the atmosphere. Instinctively, I take a step forward, with no idea what exactly it is that I’m doing.

My gaze falls on her lips, my fingers itching to caress her soft, glowing skin. My head begins to lower when Blair takes a quick step back and clears her throat.

“I should freshen up,” she says, pointedly staring at our flour-covered outfits.

“Oh, of course.” I step back too. “Some of my old clothes are in the closet. You can pick whatever suits you best and change.” The room grows silent for a brief second before I say, “Goodnight.”

Without another look behind me, I walk out of the room.

It takes a while for me to stop thinking about the fact that Blair is just downstairs, lying in bed in my house, and sleeping. But when I finally do, the night is a tapestry of dreams, the weight of slumber enveloping me in its comforting embrace.

But as the hours pass, a persistent sound filters through the veil of my sleep, growing louder and more insistent. With a groggy murmur, I reluctantly emerge from the depths of my dreams, my senses gradually coming alive.

I sit up in bed, rubbing my eyes, as the sound of knocks reverberates through the house. There’s no sound of the heavy rain that had disrupted Blair’s plans to go home, but the breeze is still quite chilly.

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