Page 91 of The Sexy Billionaire

“Now it’s my fault that I didn’t know my fiancée was having an affair. Thanks, family, you’re a great support,” I say, standing up, annoyed by this conversation. “Take the jet, get the dresses. I’ve got to go, I have a ton of work I have to get done before Monday,” I tell the room.

“You can’t leave yet, you said you were dropping Paige home,” Natalia calls out.

I did too.

Fuck.

So much for my dramatic storm out.

“I’m ready to go now. I have to call my brother. He’ll send out a search party if I don’t,” Paige says, rolling her eyes as she stands up and starts thanking everyone for a lovely day.

She follows me outside, the entire family on our heels as they all stand on the stairs and watch us get into my car. I open the car door for Paige, and she gives the crowd a wave before getting in. I shut the door, then walk around and get into the driver’s side. I start the car and click the button for the gate to open and head off. We sit in silence for a bit until Paige can’t take it anymore.

“I don’t think it was your fault for not seeing what was happening between your sister and fiancée. It was a harsh thing for your mother to say, but I’m assuming she doesn’t understand the ‘who’ of the matter.”

My hands grip the steering wheel tightly as her coconut scent swirls around me. I’m going to be smelling her in this car for days; it’s going to drive me crazy.

“No, she doesn’t,” I answer as I continue to drive.

Silence falls between us again.

“Are we okay?” she asks, turning toward me as we stop at a red light.

“Yes, of course.”

“Then why haven’t you messaged me?”

“Why haven’t you messaged me?” I reply.

She remains silent and so do I; we don’t talk again until I pull up out the front of her apartment.

“Thanks for the lift,” she says, but doesn’t move to get out. She shifts in her seat and turns to me. “I miss your messages.They have been the highlight of my days after Michael. I hate that I miss you, too. Somehow you have crept back into my life and now I don’t know what it’s like without you in it.”

“Get out of the car,” I tell her.

Shock resonates on her face, her lip quivering at my harsh words. She reaches for the car door at the same time I do mine. I slam my door with such force it shakes the car, and she does the same. Getting angrier and angrier with every step, I follow her in silence.

“You don’t need to walk me to my door, I’m fine,” she snips as we both storm past the concierge.

“I promised Smith I would.”

She lets out a huff but doesn’t fight me on it. It’s not a lie, but it’s also not the truth; it’s an assumption that he would want me to protect her and so I should. We step into the small antique elevator, and she angrily presses the button to the top floor. As soon as the doors slam shut, confining us into the cramped space, I move toward her, placing my hands on either side of her, my fingers wrapping around the iron. A gasp falls from her lips at my sudden proximity.

“Gio,” she says, as much a warning as it is a plea.

“Do you have any idea how much it’s killing me to watch your stories of flirting and dancing with other men?”

“Oh,” she answers, her mouth falling open.

“I don’t have the right to demand the same treatment for me, but I want to.”

“Um,” she says, then bites her lip, her chest shaking with an unsteady breath. I’m probably making her uncomfortable, especially after what happened in New York. I don’t want her to think I’m a monster like her ex. I step away and rake my hands through my hair in frustration. I want her. So damn much that my entire body gets strung so tightly every time I’m around her. My mind ponders over the what-ifs and the thoughts of adifferent life if I had the balls to go for it. She could have been mine, forever and always.

“I’m sorry, Paige, I …. Being near you … it … it brings up things and I don’t know how to push them back down so I can be around you like a normal fucking man.”

Her brows pull together, but her words are cut short as the elevator stops and the buzzer cuts through the tension swirling between us. On unsteady legs, she turns and pushes open the door, but I don’t move. She stops when she realizes I’m not following.

“I can’t come into your home, Paige,” I say through gritted teeth.

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