Page 20

20

BILLIE

A sher pulls bacon and eggs from the fridge while I settle into a stool at the breakfast nook. Seconds later, he slides a double shot of espresso across the countertop toward me. I’ve been in this house before, a very long time ago. The decor and colors are just as I remember them. I’ve always loved this home and how close it is to the water. I fondly recall the older couple who lived here when I was a kid.

“Had I known this house was for sale, I would have bought it,” I admit, feeling a twinge of nostalgia.

“I’m sure you and hundreds of others would have. It has a vibe, doesn’t it?” Banks has a knack for snatching up properties fast. It’s one of the perks of being an heir to one of the most successful financial firms in the country.

“It’s strange. I never expected you to be domestic .” I blow on the espresso, admiring the contours of his arm muscles in that snug black T-shirt that he was wearing under his hoodie.

“I have many other skills,” he says, glancing back at me with a smirk.

“Really? Like what? ”

He tosses the bacon into the skillet, then looks over his shoulder at me. “I can juggle.”

I snort. “No way.”

Asher picks up three oranges from the counter and tosses them into the air effortlessly. “Grab another and give it to me.”

I move to the bowl of fruit and do what he said. “I just … throw it to you?”

“Yes, do it now,” he says.

I toss the orange. He continues flawlessly and catches it, adding it to the mix, and it makes me giggle.

“It’s official. You’re a clown,” I say, genuinely impressed.

Laughter bursts from him as he catches each orange and sets them on the counter. “I’d have to be a clown to think hanging out with you is a good idea.”

“Hardy har har. You enjoy my company. You crave it. Even when I’m busting your balls.”

“ Especially when you’re busting my balls,” he corrects, flipping the bacon with a wink. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes actually.”

I return to the barstool and rest my chin on my palm as I quietly watch him navigate the space. I sip my rich espresso, enjoying the moment as the savory smell of bacon wafts through the large, open space. The salty breeze drifts through the open windows, and for the first time in years, I feel like I’m living.

It’s surreal, being here with Asher like this. It’s comfortable and relaxed in a way I could’ve never imagined, like slipping into a favorite old sweater that still fits perfectly.

He catches me daydreaming, and a teasing smile plays at the corners of his perfect lips. “Enjoying the view?”

“Yep. The beach looks gorgeous from the windows.” I lift my brows playfully, glancing past him at the shimmering waves.

“Once a smart-ass …”

“ Always one,” I say.

A few minutes later, Asher slides a plate toward me, leaning across the counter casually while handing me a fork. “Go ahead. I want to make sure the princess is fully satisfied.”

I take a bite of the fluffy scrambled eggs, closing my eyes in delight. “Not bad, Banks. Not bad at all. Compliments to the chef.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, his golden-brown eyes piercing through me. “I know it’s fucking good. Thanks for the confirmation though.”

“Your confidence is dangerous,” I mutter, picking up a crispy slice of bacon and crunching into it.

“Only because it’s your kryptonite.” Asher fills his plate and sits on the stool beside me, so close that our legs touch.

Being this close to him is overwhelming but exciting—a reminder of how quickly things are changing. We’re first-class passengers on a runaway train that neither of us can stop. If I could, I’m not sure I would.

“I’m really happy you’re here,” he says between bites.

“I am too.”

Time feels like it freezes as our gazes briefly lock. Heat rushes up my body, and my cheeks grow hot. It’s like he sees me in my rawest form. Asher always has.

I swallow hard, trying my best to maintain my composure. It’s a losing battle, especially when the walls we spent over a decade building sit, crumbled, at our feet.

“Careful. If you keep looking at me like that, you might tempt me to fuck around and find out,” I tell him.

He tries to hold back a smile but fails. It’s warm and gentle and so damn sexy that I can barely handle it.

“I think you’re currently fucking around and finding out.”

I grin as a comfortable silence takes over. We eat and exchange random glances, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company. I reach for my phone, checking the time, knowing I need to head back to the city within the next hour. He notices, but doesn’t say anything.

The seconds continue to pass, and neither of us can stop them. Time—it’s one of our most precious commodities. No matter how many zeros are at the end of my bank account balance, I can never buy more of this.

Asher picks up our empty plates and carries them to the sink.

“Let me help,” I offer, standing.

“You’re my guest,” he says, rinsing them clean before popping them in the dishwasher. He dries his hands with a towel, the muscles in his arms flexing as he moves.

“Thanks for breakfast. It was great,” I offer, genuinely appreciative.

“Anytime. Fun fact: breakfast is my favorite meal of the day.”

“I usually skip it,” I admit.

“It’s the most important meal of the day,” he reiterates, giving me a playful nudge with his elbow as I stand beside him.

I lick my lips. “Caffeine is more important.”

He shakes his head. “You’re so damn stubborn.”

“You are too.”

Being this close feels oddly intimate. Being here is a secret I’ll keep close to my heart. I almost wonder if we could be a part of one another’s world.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks, as if he can sense my shift in mood.

I swallow hard, trying to dismiss the thought. “Nothing.”

“Come on, Little Calloway. I know when your mind is wandering.”

My heart flutters when he looks at me with patience, care, and a hint of adoration.

As I open my mouth to speak, my phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling me away. I glance down and see it’s Harper. “I’m really sorry. I need to take this.”

“No problem,” he replies, his voice casual but laced with a hint of disappointment.

I quickly answer and walk away, knowing this conversation isn’t over. I step into a large common room with high ceilings and an air of elegance. In the center stands a grand piano, the polished wood gleaming under the soft light. Turn-of-the-century paintings adorn the tall cream-colored walls, adding a touch of class to the space.

“Yes?” I say, trying to sound composed.

“Oh, thank God you picked up! Are you on the way to the office?” Harper asks, her voice brightening.

“Um, no. I’ll be there after lunch,” I remind her.

She huffs. “Fine. I really wanted some of those pink doughnuts they have at the shop around the corner from your loft. But I’ll just send an intern.”

“Anything else?” I ask.

“Actually, yes,” she says.

My heart races as I think about Asher waiting for me in the kitchen.

“Spit it out, Harp. I don’t have all damn day. I’m in the middle of something.”

“Where are you?” she asks. “I know you’re not home.”

Lying to her isn’t possible, but giving her as few details right now is. “I’m in the Hamptons,” I explain.

“What? Oh my God. Are you with Asher ?” Her voice rises an entire pitch, causing my stomach to twist. She must’ve spoken to Nick and knew Asher was here.

“ What. Do. You. Want ?” I ask through gritted teeth, my patience wearing thin.

I’ve told no one where I am, but her. I slipped away from the city without a word.

“It’s times like this I wish I would’ve FaceTimed you. No way you could lie or avoid answering when I can see your face. I know he’s there. Nick told me Asher was at the Hamptons.”

I refuse to admit anything. “Harp, please.”

“Okay, okay. I know you told me you’d be at the benefit gala this weekend, but you didn’t RSVP with the museum, and I got a call from a very pissed-off Weston. He said you were avoiding him after you fired someone. Who did you fire?”

“Shit. Yes, please confirm with him officially. Louis is my plus-one,” I explain, sidestepping her final question. “Anyway, I gotta go. Do you need anything else?”

“No, but?—”

I end the call abruptly, and when I turn around, I find Asher leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, a knowing look on his face.

“You’ll be at the benefit this weekend?” he asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“Of course. Weston wouldn’t let me live it down if I missed. You know how obsessed he and Carlee are with the arts.”

He fully enters the room, pulls out the piano bench, and sits. I focus on him.

“Do you play?” I ask, genuinely interested.

“Sorta,” he replies, a hint of modesty in his voice.

I smile and take a seat beside him. He places his fingers on the keys and begins playing “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” It’s flawless, and when he reaches the second chorus, I join him, playing a lower octave on the keys.

“You sorta know how to play?” I tease as we transition into the pre-chorus. “Lies. What other secrets are you hiding?”

“It’s not a secret, princess. You just never cared enough to find out,” he says, finishing the song and leading straight into “La Vie en Rose.”

The notes twinkle under his touch, creating a light, dreamy atmosphere. It’s a timeless song about falling in love. His brow quirks up as he watches me, and the world around us slowly fades away as he plays just for me.

“Who are you?” I whisper, suddenly realizing I might have misjudged Asher. A chill runs over me, and I think Weston might have been right about this man .

Asher removes his fingers from the keys and turns to face me. “Stay with me until Saturday morning, when I leave.”

I focus on him, noticing how his hair falls messily across his forehead. I can’t help but admire his long eyelashes, framing those intense eyes. “I have a meeting after lunch today.”

“And I give a fuck, why? You’re the boss. Reschedule it,” he tells me nonchalantly. “Reschedule the rest of your week while you’re at it.”

A sly smile slips across my lips. “Only if you beg. On your knees.”

“Ah. Well, unlike you, I’m not too fucking proud to do what it takes to get what I want.”

Asher stands, pulling me to my feet, and then drops to his knees before me.

“Wow,” I whisper. I didn’t realize how incredibly hot this would be.

He grabs my hand, and I look down at him, feeling a rush of exhilaration. The room, the piano, the paintings—everything disappears but us. Right now, it’s intensely personal, and I swallow hard as he looks up at me.

“Pretty, pretty fucking please, stay with me until Saturday.” His gaze narrows. “If you walk away from me now, you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what could’ve been.”

My breath catches in my throat. Asher gently lifts my sweater, sprinkling soft kisses on my stomach. My fingers thread through his hair, and I know I can’t deny this feeling.

“Okay,” I whisper.

I can’t walk away from him.

I don’t want this to end. Not yet.

“Was that a yes?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Yes,” I confirm.

“Good fucking girl.” He stands, grabs my cheeks, and smacks a kiss on my lips that leaves me breathless. “Now, since we have days to spend together, I have some things I want to discuss first. ”

He takes my hand, leading me away, and suddenly, the mood grows more serious than I expected.

My phone buzzes in my pocket again, breaking the spell. I pull it out, seeing it’s Harper again.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, annoyed.

Asher snatches the phone from me and answers it. “Harper, we’re really busy right now,” Asher barks.

He pulls the phone away from his ear, and I can hear her excited screams echoing through the receiver.

“Shh. Listen to me carefully. Billie is out of the office for the rest of the week. She went on a self-discovery retreat. Have everything rescheduled. And anything else can wait until Monday.”

Harper says something back, and then Asher ends the call, handing my phone to me with a sigh.

“Are you insane?” I ask, half amused, half shocked.

“Yes,” he replies with a grin, squeezing my hand. He leads me through the house and out to the back porch.

The fresh breeze brushes across my cheeks, and we both inhale deeply at the same time, then burst into laughter.

Asher guides me over to the hammock setup. He lies down on it first, then opens his arms for me.

“I’m afraid,” I admit, a flutter of nerves dancing in my stomach.

“I’ve got you,” he says, his voice steady as I roll into him. He wraps his arms around me, and the hammock sways violently back and forth.

“What if it flips?” I ask, a hint of panic creeping into my voice.

“Then we’ll fall together,” he reassures me, carefully brushing hair from my face. It doesn’t feel like he’s referring to the hammock.

We’re in a cocoon, hidden from the outside world, just the two of us.

“Are you comfortable?” I ask, knowing my weight is bearing down on him .

“Most comfortable I’ve been in years,” he replies, threading his fingers through my hair.

I rest my head on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his rapidly beating heart.

“You’re heart is racing,” I whisper, feeling his pulse quicken beneath me.

He swallows hard, his fingers trailing down my skin, sending shivers through me. “You always do that to me.”

I meet his eyes and breathe in deeply, inhaling his familiar scent, wanting to bottle it up and keep it with me forever.

“This feeling scares me,” I whisper, vulnerability spilling from my lips.

He softens, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “It’s fucking terrifying.”

“What are we supposed to do?”

He smirks. “Survive. That’s all we can do.”

“I can’t fall in love,” I admit.

He barely leans forward, swiping his soft lips against mine. “You don’t get to decide, Ice Queen. Neither of us does.”

I huff, and he chuckles, holding me tighter.

“Little Miss Needs to Control Every Aspect of Her Life has no control.”

I groan, “So, what is it that we need to discuss?”

I return my head to his chest, and he twirls my hair around his fingers.

“No matter what happens over the next few days, on Saturday, when we’re around one another, you have to promise me that you’ll keep up appearances.”

“And keep hating you?” I ask, meeting his gaze with an arched brow.

“Yes,” he says with a playful grin. “But try to make it believable. None of that eye-fucking shit you do.”

“To be completely fair, I don’t even realize I’m doing that half the time.” I slightly reposition myself so I can better see him .

“Double down on your fake-as-fuck relationship with Louis and hate me. That’s all I need you to do. Help me help you.”

“Well, I was already doing that,” I admit with pride in my voice.

“Terribly. Make it so good that the Crown believes an engagement is on the horizon. Make Josh believe it.”

“The Crown won’t believe it as long as you keep posting pictures of us together on Instagram.”

He chuckles. “I know. That stops too. I’m going to archive the posts and make it very clear that I’m single so you can continue on with Princy.”

“And my being with Louis won’t bother you?” I ask, a mix of concern and curiosity creeping in.

“It doesn’t matter. Macro, not micro, babe. I’m thinking of the big picture.” His smile fades, replaced by a serious look. “Just please promise me you can do that.”

I nod, feeling the weight of his words. “What does this accomplish?”

“Ah. I can’t tell you that. Yet . If you’re asked to give a testimony, I want to make sure you can tell the truth. I will never put you in a position where you’ll need to lie or put your career or reputation on the line for me. There are things I cannot and will not discuss with you until this is settled. To protect you.”

“Asher,” I say firmly, “I don’t need your protection.”

He chuckles, a warm sound that makes my heart flutter. “You do, trust me. One day, when the time is right, I promise to tell you everything. Oh, also, we cannot be seen together. When we leave here, no one can know we were ever together.”

“I planned to keep this—whatever this is—a secret. Well, other than Harper knowing because you literally confirmed it for her, but she’s a vault. She’d cut her tongue out before sharing anything personal. Anything else, sir?” I add with a teasing lilt.

“Mmm. I kinda like it when you call me that,” he says. “But no. Also, I know you’re working with Stormy.”

I gasp, repositioning my body. My sudden movement sends the hammock twisting and flipping until we’re both lying flat on our backs, staring up at the porch.

“Fuck, I’m too old for that,” Asher groans, his laughter bubbling up.

I roll over to face him. “You know about Stormy?”

“Everyone who’s anyone knows about Stormy. And the fact that she chose to work with you to fight against me? Honestly, I’m fucking honored. If Easton and Weston called her for a major favor, they were scared for you.” He chuckles, pleased with himself.

“Okay, well, I fired her.”

Asher props himself up on one elbow, his mouth falling open in disbelief. “What?”

“Yep.” I shrug, trying to play it cool.

Asher shakes his head as he stands, then gently lifts me to my feet. Carefully, he guides me over to the steps, where we both settle. The sun is shining brightly, and its warmth beams against my skin, making me feel good. My eyes scan the beach, and I’m happy it’s private access.

“Have you ever watched Pulp Fiction ?” he asks, his gaze drifting to the rolling waves in the distance.

Seagulls swoop and dive above us, their cries mingling with the sound of the surf.

“With John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson?” I respond, soaking up the warmth. Even though I’m known as the ice queen, I can’t help but enjoy a good dose of sunshine.

His eyes slide over me, drinking me in. “Yeah. So, you know when Vincent and Jules blow that dude’s head off in the back of the car and there’s blood everywhere? You know who Jules calls to help clean up that disaster because it’s an absolute nightmare situation? He calls Winston ‘The Wolf’ Wolf, and the guy made the entire mess disappear like it never fucking happened.”

“Yes, and what’s your point?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Stormy is The Wolf in this scenario. She would’ve brought you to places you’d only dreamed of being. Her contacts are endless. It was an incredible opportunity, Billie. Why would you do that?” he questions, genuinely puzzled.

“You sound exactly like Weston and Easton. Seriously?” I sigh, a bit exasperated. “I did it because I don’t need her. She’s wrong.” I study him for a brief second, searching his eyes. “Her plan included me never speaking to you again. She wanted me to sign an unbreakable contract that erased you from my life. And even though we argue and purposely drive each other insane, I knew I couldn’t do that in good faith. I know I said I’d do anything for Bellamore, but I can’t …” I swallow hard, setting my jaw. “I don’t want to erase you, even if she believes you’re very bad for my business.”

He doesn’t take his gaze from me, his expression serious. “She said that?”

“Yes. And so, after her pitch, I told her to get fucked. Then I told Easton and Weston to fuck each other. The looks on their faces—so priceless. I walked out of Calloway headquarters, furious that they thought they could control me. This is my life. This is my business. And I will win in the end,” I explain. The mood grows more serious. “There are other ways for me to come out on top without resorting to that, and I will find them.”

He shakes his head. “Why would you choose me over your company? Why would you do that?”

“Because when you kissed me, I felt something I hadn’t felt before,” I confess. “Even if you piss me off and try to destroy or ruin me, I can’t deny how the world faded away. It was the only sense of calm I’d experienced after living in a fucking storm for years, not knowing if I’d ever find that again. I will never be able to deny that, even if I wanted to.” My voice cracks, and I’m overcome with emotion. “So, if this is all a game to you, Asher, now would be a really fucking great time to tell me so I could avoid heartbreak.”

His lips crash into mine like a fucking wrecking ball, and I’m already gone, lost in the heat of him. His mouth is hungry, savage, like he’s been starving for me and I’m his first fucking meal in years. His tongue slips past my lips, claiming me with a possessive urgency that makes my knees buckle. I grab on to his shoulders, digging my nails into the fabric of his shirt, wanting to tear it off, to feel every inch of him against me.

His hand grips my waist, fingers digging into my flesh like he’s marking me, branding me as his. I can feel the heat of his palm through my clothes, searing into me, and I’m already soaked, my panties clinging to me, slick with want. His other hand slides up my back, pulling me closer—so close that I can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my stomach, and, holy fuck, it’s huge.

I whimper into his mouth—a stupid, desperate sound that I can’t control—and he growls in response, low and feral, like an animal. His lips move to my neck, teeth scraping against my skin, and I can’t think, can’t breathe. All I can feel is him—his hands, his mouth, his body. Together, we’re everything and nothing.

“You chose me,” he whispers against my throat, his voice rough and raw.

“Yes,” I gasp, arching into him, wanting him to take me right here, right now, on these fucking steps.

His hand slides down to my ass, squeezing hard, pulling me against him, and I can feel every inch of his cock pressing into me, demanding, relentless. My mind is spinning, my body on fire, and I want him so bad that it hurts.

“Asher, please,” I moan, his name tasting like sin on my lips.

He kisses me again, deep and dirty, his tongue fucking my mouth like he’s already inside me.

His hand slides under my shirt, rough fingers skimming over my stomach, and I’m shaking, trembling with need. He cups my breast, thumb brushing over my nipple through my bra.

“Fuck,” he mutters against my lips, his voice ragged, and I can feel him hardening even more against me.

I’m ready to beg, ready to drop to my knees and take him in my mouth, ready to let him fuck me raw right here in the sunlight. But then? —

“Asher!”

The deep, angry voice cuts through the haze like a fucking axe, sharp and sudden, and he pulls away from me, breathing hard, his eyes dark and wild.

“Dammit,” he mutters in a completely different tone, and I can see the frustration in every line of his body.

“Is that Brody?” I ask, my head swimming. “Shit. I forgot to tell him I was leaving the city.”

I want to scream. I want to grab Asher and pull him back to me to finish what we started. But he’s already standing, turning toward the house, and I’m left on the steps, wet, desperate, and aching for him.

“He’s worried. Take a rain check. You’ve survived not having me this long,” he says, his voice full of promise, and I can only nod, my body still throbbing with need.

But damn, I want him now more than ever.

My skin feels alive with the memory of his touch, the heat between us still sizzling in the air, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve only just started.

All I can think is, Please don’t break my heart. It’s currently taped together.