Page 65 of 21 Nights with Billionaire Boss

“She is my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, right.” Baxter grins. “We both know she’s not. You only asked her to fake it so I don’t charm her into falling in love with me, yes?”

I hate how dead on the money he is. Smart bastard. “Who else knows?”

“No one does. And they don’t have to find out. Make it real and stop torturing yourself.”

I eyeball him. “I’m good. But thanks for the advice, love guru.”

“That’s what the ladies call me.” He smirks.

I’m tempted to throw my coffee at him. Too bad the mug is empty.

“Look.” Baxter sits forward. “You’re not doing yourself or her any favors by pretending you don’t want her.”

“I don’t—” I can’t say the word. It’ll be a big ass lie and Baxter would see through it. He already has.

I climb off the stool and go to pour myself a fresh cup of coffee. He’s silent which is unusual but I know he’s giving me room to say my peace.

I sigh and brace my hands on the counter. “It’s not that simple. She’s leaving in a week and I don’t know how it’s supposed to work. I’ve kept her from her life long enough.”

“Have you asked her, though? Given her a choice or are you just choosing for her?”

His words hit me and I pause. I never considered that. I just assumed she’d leave and we’d be over.

But she repeated it too. I’d be dumb not to listen. She wants to keep the lines between us clear. No matter how much she wants me, she wants nothing more than these three weeks have to offer.

I pour myself a full cup and burn my throat drinking the steaming liquid. “She doesn’t want it.” I drop into the chair and face Baxter.

“And you know that, how?” He folds his arms.

“She has said it.”

“In what context?”

I refuse to dissect that. If I do, I’ll give myself false hope. And want something I shouldn’t. Something I can never have.

Because it’s all my fault.

I shut down that thought. “Are you a therapist now?” I glare at him. “Mind your business.”

He shrugs, unfazed by my hostility. “I don’t know, man. Sometimes, I wonder if you actually need one.”

I climb off the stool and Baxter climbs off his, hands out. He circles the island as I advance toward him. “Calm down, big guy. I’m just throwing options out there. Seeing if a dart hits the bullseye. That’s all.”

I stop by my coffee and take another drink, dropping back into my stool. My sigh is heavy. “I have to keep her safe and make sure she gets home like we agreed, that’s all.”

I don’t need to look at my brother to know he’s no longer smiling.

“You need to tell her, idiot. Try to keep her.”

“It’s only a fucking week left!” I bite out.

“Well, congrats. Enjoy your last week of the little happiness you’ve had in ages.”

I growl and finish off my coffee. I hate that he’s right. I hate that there’s nothing I can do about it.

The soft patter of footsteps makes me sit straighter. Landon is closed off in the study, his head buried in his work. So that’s not him.