Page 32 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

"So...last night," he says. "You were really drunk. Are you okay?"

Of course, that's what he's worried about—he's always concerned about my well-being. And that almost makes me mad because I want him to be less good so that saying goodbye is easier.

"I'm hungover," I admit.

"That's not what I meant."

I shrug. "I'm just...dealing," I say. "Figuring out what to do now that my dad and Kylie are starting their new life. Mine is going to look a little bit different."

"Did you call Andrea?"

I can't stop myself from rolling my eyes, and when I look back at Quinn, he's crossed his arms and is sitting back in his chair, looking at me like he's amused.

"What?" I ask.

"You didn't call her," he shoots back.

"No, I didn't call her," I confess. "I'm figuring it out."

"You could use someone to talk to."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because you kissed me," Quinn says.

I bite my lip, looking down at the floor as I grip my coffee tightly. "I remember. And I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," he says. "Madison...you've got to stop apologizing."

"But I kissed you, and you didn't want me to," I rush out. "I shouldn't have done that, and I know I have shit to work out…"

"I wanted it," he says quietly. "And you said...you said you did it because you wanted it, too. Was that true?"

We lock eyes across the table. Quinn's eyes are so dark they're almost black, and they're fixed on me, unblinking.

I can't help but feel like whatever I say next, it's going to change everything.

If I say yes and he doesn't feel the same way, it could destroy our friendship forever and maybe even our business relationship. If I say yes and he does feel the same way...

...then what?

I swallow hard, and my voice is hoarse when I reply.

"I wanted it," I breathe. "I wanted that...and a lot more."

The energy between us goes taut, like a string dragging us together. I lick my lips, and I realize that Quinn traces the movement of my tongue as it flicks out and across my mouth. His eyes raise back to mine, and he picks up his cup of coffee like he's doing it purely for the sake of having something to do with his hands.

"We can't do this," he murmurs.

I cock my head. "Why?"

"Because your father would kill me," he says. "Because I'm almost twenty years older."

"That didn't stop him," I blurt out.

Quinn frowns. "Is that what this is about? Your dad?"

I shake my head, feeling my heart racing in my chest. "It's not just about my dad. It's about...everything. It's about how I always feel like I'm living in his shadow, how I'm always trying to prove myself to him. It's about how I'm scared that I'll never be able to live up to his expectations, that I'll always be the daughter who couldn't handle the pressure. And..."

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