Page 43 of Enticing My Off Limits Billionaire

"So we're still doing this?" she asks.

I give her a half-smile. "Maybe that was the last one."

She yanks me down by the neck of my t-shirt, kissing me back with just as much passion as I kissed her, and she finally pulls back with a smirk.

"Liar," she laughs.

I grab her bag and follow her out the front door, Madison locking it before we head off. Then it's just into the car, out of the city...

"You sure we're still doing this?" she asks as we pull out of the drive.

I glance over at her, signaling to get onto the freeway. "We are..."

She chuckles. "We are?"

I shrug. "We just are."

"Okay," she says. "We are...something."

I reach out and graze my fingertips against the back of her hand. "We are something."

I go quiet as I get on the highway, Madison flipping her hand over to entwine her fingers with mine. "Sorry," I mutter after a few minutes. "I don't drive very often."

"Just yesterday?" she says.

"Yeah," I nod. "But not for a few months before that."

"What's your brother's name?" she asks.

I tense my jaw; I can't help it. "Most people don't love hearing about my addict brother."

"I'm not most people," Madison says. "I'm something, remember?"

I look over at her just for a second.

And she's right.

She should know. She cares.

"Adam," I say quietly.

"Will you tell me about him?" she asks.

I shrug. "He's...a fuck-up," I tell her. "Ten years younger than me. My folks were pretty absent, so I basically raised him. And it turns out I did a shitty job because he's struggled his whole life."

"With what?" she says.

"Everything," I say, frustrated. "He's like...two people. He's incredibly smart—a genius—but he can never settle down on anything. He can't get out of debt because he spends all his money on booze and drugs, he can't hold down jobs because he's unreliable, he always gets into trouble...it's like he just wants to be irresponsible."

"And he's an addict?" she asks.

"Yeah. Opioids. He scares the hell out of me."

"That sounds really hard," she says quietly.

"He stays away from me most of the time," I say. "Which is...almost worse? Because when he's not talking to me, I start to assume he's dead. Then he comes back looking for help, and I'll never, ever say no."

"I can't imagine what that's like," she says.

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