Page 133 of Railing the Billionaire

Of course she had. She’d come from the same small town as me, and now she wasmarryinga billionaire.

I said, “I can’t help but feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, for when we both realize that even the possibility of being together, for no matter how short a time, is absolutely bananas.”

“Why can’t that be okay? Bananas are delicious.”

“There’s a book on his shelf titledThe Power of Routine.”

“So?”

“I hate routines. They’re boring and predictable and everything anti-me.”

“But isheboring and predictable and anti-you?”

“No,” I said, because he wasn’t. He was weird and interesting and unpredictably fun. That could be enough, couldn’t it? We could take this time for what it was, which was exactly how I liked things. No plan. All spur-of-the-moment fun. We didn’t have to have a future. I liked not knowing the future, so there was no reason our incompatibility should bother me.

“Thanks,” I said. “I needed this.”

“Me, too,” Morgan said.

“How’s the play? The costume redesign and everything?”

“Good actually. I’ve been crushing it, and so far, there are no new complaints. Cross your fingers for me.”

“I will,” I said. “My toes, too.”

“Thanks! I should go. I have to get back.”

“Good luck with the rest of your day.”

“Good luck with Gabriel.”

I didn’t need luck because everything was fine exactly as it was—better than fine, even. We were having crazy awesome sex and he was surprising me all the time by sharing new parts of himself. It was great.

After we said goodbye and hung up, I reopened the blank document on my phone to write.

And I got another text.

This time it was from a blocked number. That was never a good sign. If too many weirdos had gotten wind of my newest number, I’d have to get another one. Again.

A touch nervous, I clicked the text to see what it said.

It was a picture. The background was gray and indistinguishable. At first glance, the focal point appeared to be a boulder covered in brown moss, or a sleeping bear with mange.

On closer inspection, I realized it was a large, hairy, completely naked man. He was balled up with his butt sticking into the air, his head covered under his arms, and a long line down his back where his pelt of curly hair had been shaved off.

I locked my phone and set it down.

My hands were shaking. A weird mix of exhilaration and disgust thrummed through my veins.

While I waited for my heart rate to slow, another text came through.

I shouldn’t look. It could be so much worse than a naked dude. What if it was worse? If it was even more disturbing, how could Inotlook?

Curiosity killed the cat, but more importantly, satisfaction brought him back. I pretty much lived for those little satisfactions. And if I didn’t check it now, it’d drive me crazy all day until I did.

Throwing caution into the wind, I picked up my phone.

This time there was a written message.

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