Page 8 of Grumpy Billionaire Seeking Wife (Billionaires Seeking Wives Club #1)

Wes spent an hour laughing and then telling me I had no business dating if I couldn't stand up for myself against jerk boys.

I didn't appreciate his harsh advice and never sought advice from him again, even though there were a million more pieces of boy data I needed to help me in the dating realm.

That was what happened when you didn't have a dad or older brother to ask.

And then, of course, I started college, broke up with said stupid high school boyfriend, and attempted to move on with my life.

Only I felt brave one night, and— I stop the thoughts in my brain. I am not going there right now.

"Don't be mean, Wes." Erica walks back into the living room, a glass of lemonade in her hand.

She brushes her dark hair back nonchalantly as if there was no issue with us being here in his apartment, even though Erica did inform me she didn't ask him.

We snuck in, using the emergency key he'd given her, so we could take photos for our dating profiles, and she assured me that he was out of town.

"By the way, you don't have any Diet Coke in your fridge. "

"I'm not being mean. I just asked her a question." Wes turns to his sister and frowns. "Also, I don't drink Diet Coke, so I wouldn't be buying it. Why are you both in my apartment, acting like it's a Paris Runway?" He looks back over at me. "For designers and models that haven't quite made it."

I make a face as I walk over to him in what I thought was quite a cute black mini skirt, tight red knit top with small pink hearts, and homemade pineapple earrings.

I swirl and fluff my recently highlighted honey-blonde hair over my shoulders and admire the lighter blonde strands.

I look down at my Doc Marten combat boots and once again wonder if they look trendy or ridiculous.

“What is wrong with my outfit?” I frown as I glare into his laughing brown eyes.

I try to ignore the specks of gold in his pupils as he looks me up and down.

A huge smirk crosses his face as he once again looks me in the eyes.

He's grown his facial hair out, and my heart races dangerously fast as I take in his scruffy beard and mustache.

Why did the man have to be so good-looking?

And when did he go from handsome boy to dangerously hot man?

“What’s right with it, Sabrina?” He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his silky hair before heading to his large tan sectional and taking a seat.

“I’m telling you as a man, that is not an outfit I would want my date to show up in.

” He stretches his legs out and loosens his tie as he leans back, looking like a million dollars.

Which I'm pretty confident he has because he lives like a king in this penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park.

In fact, if The Wall Street Journal is correct, he is now a billionaire, which blows my mind.

The Carrington family has always been wealthy, but Wes has taken them to the next level.

“It is trendy. It's not my fault if you don't understand fashion.” I turn around and face Erica and aim my glare her way. "This is not the vibe I needed before my date tonight." My heart is racing, and I'm feeling incredibly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Sab. I didn't realize the big bro would be back already." Erica grabs her phone. "Miles told me Wes wouldn't be back until later this week."

"Miles told you to break into my apartment?

" Wes looks pissed as he brings up his younger brother and business partner.

Miles is the middle child and also gorgeous, but for some reason, I've never been as into him as I've been into Wes.

Maybe because Wes was the serious and silent type, while Miles was the jokester.

Being the youngest, they both spoiled Erica and acted like her dad, but I knew she loved them both more than words could say.

"He just told me you'd be out of town." Erica grins at her brother, a picture of innocence. "Just in case I wanted to check your mail or something. You know I'm the best little sister ever."

"You're such a great little sister that you and your sidekick have invaded my apartment without me even knowing.

" He jumps up and heads to the kitchen on the other side of his open-floor-plan apartment.

I watch as he opens his Bosch French door fridge and pulls out a beer. "Would either of you like one?"

"I'm drinking lemonade." Erica shakes her head as if we didn't just drink half his tequila.

"I'm not going to say a word." Wes looks over at me. "What about you, Sabrina? Need some liquid courage for your date? Might make you see just how hideous your outfit?—"

"Wes," Erica chides, and he holds his hands up in the air.

"Fine, I will keep my thoughts to myself." He takes out another beer and walks it over to me. "You want it?"

"What I want is to throw it over your head. You may have gained a couple more dollars, but you sure didn't gain any manners."

"Hold on, I'm going to the restroom," Erica states as she leaves us alone.

"It's not like I'm saying you're hideous, Sabrina." His fingers brush mine as he hands me the beer, and his dark eyes crinkle as he looks down at me. "You grew up to be kinda pretty."

"Kinda pretty?" I wrinkle my nose as I pull the tab back on the beer can and take a long sip. I sputter slightly at the bitter taste of the liquid. I still don't really appreciate the taste of beer. I don't know why anyone would ever choose a beer over a cocktail. It makes no sense to me.

"Careful there." He takes a step closer to me and makes a move that causes me to jump back quickly. "You okay, Sabrina? Just ensuring I don't need to do the Heimlich or anything."

"I'm fine."

"Not the adjective I would use." He grins. "I would say pretty, beautiful, stunning, but I suppose some men would say fine."

"What?" I take another sip of the beer and manage to keep it down this time. "What are you going on about?"

"Your looks." He looks me up and down, slowly this time.

"It's been a while since I've seen you, and you've definitely filled out.

" His eyes linger on my tight top with the padded bra, and I pretend not to notice as I push my chest out.

My boobs are definitely not as big as the bra would have men believe, but I am no longer annoyed at the fifty dollars I paid for the extra padding.

Even if the only person, other than Erica and me, who has admired it is Wes "Always Getting on my Nerves" Carrington.

"I have no response to your stupid comment." I look over at Erica as she walks back into the room and attempts to pick up the heavy-duty black tripod and DSLR camera that sits atop it so she can hide it.

"I already saw the camera, Erica." Wes spins around in true big-brother fashion.

"I only hope you girls weren't attempting to start a career on OnlyFans in my apartment.

" He chuckles as if he thinks his comment is funny.

I feel annoyed all over again. All this man has to do is talk, and he gets on my nerves.

"Breathe, Sabrina." He looks back over at me and winks.

"I don't need you huffing and puffing and having a heart attack.

I have work to do tonight. I do not have time to take you to the hospital. "

"Wes, we just wanted to get cute pics for our dating profiles, and you have to admit, your view is gorgeous.

" Erica walks over to one of the windows and looks over.

"I read in this book that like attracts like, so if hot, rich men see us in this grandiose apartment, they will be more likely to match with us. "

"They will think we also come from money and, as such, won't think we're gold diggers," I conclude.

"It's not that we're here because we want to see where you sleep.

" I mean, I did want to check out his bedroom, which I wasn't going to be able to do now, but there is no way in hell that I’m going to tell him that.

Or Erica, for that matter. I don't want her thinking I’m a creep because I want to see her brother's bed.

And possibly sit on it. And roll around.

Not because I want it for myself. At least not for present-day me.

Teenage Sabrina, though. Teenage Sabrina would die to be in Wes's bedroom, sniffing his pillow.

..like some creep. Shit, I'm about to call the single white female stalker club on myself.

Get it together, Sabrina , I mentally lecture myself.

"Sounds like a great plan. There's only one problem I see, though..." Wes heads back to his sectional, sits down, and grabs his remote control. Erica and I both watch as he turns the TV on and flicks through the channels.

"And that is…what?" Erica sounds as irritated as I feel. If he's going to start a sentence that could be meaningful to us, he really needs to finish it, but I suppose billionaires feel like they don't have to finish sentences like ordinary people.

"Do you both really think that rich, famous, and handsome men are going to be on those apps you both use?" He smirks. "As someone who fits into all three categories, I can emphatically say you wouldn't catch me dead on an app."

"Oh, hell no." Erica pretends to vomit, and I groan loudly. "We are not having this conversation."

"You wish women would want you on an app." I take another huge gulp of beer and head over to the couch with Erica. "I will throw this on you to give you some humility if you want."

"You wouldn't dare." His thick brows furrow as he faces me, a challenge in his eyes. "I know you wouldn't get cheap beer all over my ten-thousand-dollar suit and even more expensive couch."

"Oh, shut up." Erica sits next to him and hits him in the shoulder. "If Mom and Dad could hear you right now, they'd disown you for being a douche."