Page 5 of Kandi's Crush: A BWWM Sweet Billionaire Romance

The building was eerily quiet for a Monday morning. I’d expected dozens of construction workers and contractors crawling over every single inch of the site.

I entered the modern, well-lit lobby armed with my trusty clipboard in one arm and my backpack slung across the other. The day’s goal was to develop a cleaning plan and agree upon a schedule.

I pressed the elevator call button and the large steel car clunked noisily before the doors opened. I stepped in and scrutinized every detail. The brass and wooden interior hinted at its age. This thing was so old it had to be the proof-of-concept to the first elevator ever. What could go wrong?

Everything went wrong. I pressed the second-floor button, but the car didn’t move. Thankfully, the door didn’t close and trap me inside. I pulled out my phone and accessed the secure app containing the alarm and entry codes for Scrub-A-Dub’s customer community. Five seconds later, I located Chadwick’s instructions and entered the code into the keyless entry system before pressing the button for the second floor again.

The doors closed and then popped open before closing for a final time. The car began its slow, noisy ascent, and I panicked when the elevator crept past the second floor. Fuck. I hurriedly pressed the buttons for each of the floors, and the elevator continued to climb before making an abrupt stop. I breathed a sigh of relief until the elevator doors opened, exposing the concrete block surrounding the elevator shaft. Fear rose in my throat and threatened to choke me as my claustrophobia kicked in. Fuck! I will die in this deathtrap. ?My throat tightened as a cold sweat broke out across my forehead. Damn Chadwick and his fucked-up elevator!

My eyes darted around the steel box as I rapidly developed an escape plan. I could pry open the ceiling panels and shimmy up the cable. Before I could ‘Bruce Willis’ that shit, the doors closed, and the elevator continued to rise. The car lurched and opened to reveal a modern living room. I quickly realized I was looking into Chadwick’s personal living quarters. I searched the elevator instructions on my phone but gave up quickly, pressing any and all buttons, including the emergency alarm. As the siren pierced the air, Chadwick ran from one of the rooms, wielding a golf club as a weapon.

A rush of air escaped my lips when our gazes met. Beads of water dripped from his dark brown hair to his face and torso. The wide expanse of his tanned, smooth chest peeked through the opening of a navy-blue bathrobe. I wanted to run my fingers through the fine patch of fuzz and down the rippled muscles of his abdomen.

His blue eyes were wild as his gaze drifted from the top of my head down to my sneaker-clad feet. His broad chest moved with each sharp inhalation. He looked at me with a feral scowl before a small smile curled his lips. His arm lowered, and his muscles retracted as his stance changed from that of a spring ready to snap to a less agitated one.

The heat of his gaze seemed to burn right through my clothing, leaving me naked and exposed. My lips. My neck. My breasts. My thighs. The sacred space between my legs. Every place pulsated and warmed under his stare. I wanted to reach in my backpack for a bottle of water, needing a sip of the cool liquid to quench my thirst. Instead, I pushed the emergency alarm button again, and the loud siren immediately went silent.

“Shit! Kandace? You scared the crap out of me.” He exhaled with relief as his eyes nervously darted around the loft. He stammered, “Sorry. Celeste didn’t mention that you would . . . I had a late start this morning. Just got out of the shower.”

As the pair of doors began to close slowly, I pressed the “Door Open“ button. Miraculously, the doors remained opened, allowing us to continue our conversation.

Chadwick’s near nakedness combined with the stutters shook my confidence, so I babbled, “I’m sorry.” We sounded like two idiots apologizing to each other, but for what, I wasn’t exactly sure. “I didn’t realize this elevator was so temperamental. I wanted to check out the other floors before I . . .”

My words drifted as I noticed the reason for his nervousness. Fearful, wide eyes framed the face of a tall, buxom brunette as she inched behind him. She’d wrapped a matching navy bath sheet around her torso and her long, wet hair hung down her shoulders past her ample breasts. Sensing curvaceous nymph’s presence, Chadwick’s eyes widened. He slowly turned to look at her.

“False alarm. Angel, why don’t you wait for me in the bedroom?”

A blush flamed across my cheeks as I realized I’d interrupted the couple’s intimate moment.

“No. No. I’m so sorry. I’ll come back.” I returned my gaze to my phone and attempted to figure out how to work the steel coffin.

“My, um, friend, um, is preparing to leave.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Come in and take a look around the living room and kitchen? I’ll be out in a second.” He held up an index finger. “Stay. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Okay,” I squeaked. The bronze doors closed, making nary a sound as I took a tentative step into the loft. He glanced back over his shoulder before he rushed into the bedroom, quietly closing the door.

His friend?

The apartment had silvery gray walls decorated with large pieces of modern art. The black-framed, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the bustling street below and were each covered with sheer curtains. A dark gray, oversized sectional sat atop a wool rug. The pièce de résistance was the seventy-inch television mounted over the massive gray tiled fireplace.

There were red Solo cups and empty bottles strewn throughout, ruining what would otherwise be a perfect space. From the living room, the kitchen was in view. The marble countertops, large island, and high-end appliances were a chef’s dream. My nose wrinkled at the piles of takeout containers scattered in the kitchen. Gross! A Mr. Coffee coffeemaker sat on the counter. Like me, the appliance seemed out of place amongst the expensive furnishings.

Despite the mess, the space was more elegant than I expected. Someone had put thought into the interior design and décor, which made it feel a little less like a bachelor pad. Guess it helped that he was twenty-six years old and insanely rich.

I busied myself collecting the wine bottles, Solo cups, and carryout boxes scattered on the living room table and kitchen countertops. Ten minutes later, the bedroom door opened. Chadwick wore a pair of gray sweatpants along with a black t-shirt that clung to his muscular chest. He smirked and nervously rubbed the back of his head.

His friend had exchanged the blue bath towel for a red minidress, and the fabric hugged her ample breasts and hips. She’d bundled her long, brown hair into a loose topknot, and dark sunglasses framed her narrow face. Her expression was impassive as she flung a black Chanel bag over her shoulder, and she sauntered to the elevator with her head held high.

I wanted to give her snaps and yell, “Yassss girl! It’s your world!” Deciding to use better judgment, I continued to do what I did best. I occupied myself with straightening the room.

My cheeks heated at the realization that I was yet again spying into Chadwick St. Clair’s love life. At least this time, I wasn’t an awkward schoolgirl with a massive crush. Or was I?

The room was silent as the three of us waited for the elevator to arrive. Chadwick simultaneously avoided eye contact with both of us while shifting from one foot to the other. After what felt like an eternity, the elevator announced its arrival with a loud clunk. His friend entered the elevator and blew a kiss to Chadwick as he nodded a goodbye.

Once the elevator doors closed, Chadwick walked to the kitchen area. I tried to breathe deeply as I counted each step until he stood next to me.

He pulled me in for a hug as I leaned in stiffly and wrapped my arms around him. I assumed he had a girlfriend, so I poked my ass back to keep a distance of at least one foot between our lower halves. In the unfortunate event that our crotches should touch, I didn’t want ‘little Chadwick’ to grow against my thigh. If the rumors were correct, ‘not-so-little Chadwick’ was more like it.

This is a professional relationship. I’m here to do a job. I’m not here to daydream about Chadwick.

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