Page 80 of The Elusive Billionaire

By the time I get back to Savvy, her arms are crossed on the counter and her head is dead weight on top of them while she snores.

What the hell am I supposed to do now? If I force her to eat something, she might choke, and if she doesn’t start eating, she’ll die.

My heart pinches in my chest. It’s a sensation that used to happen when Sage was young and sick and I didn’t know how to help him. That’s when I decided I’d never be helpless again.

When my people need me, I will be there, and I will have all the answers.

Watching Savvy sleep with her head on the counter, I know I’m about to learn a whole lot about a subject I’d hoped to never experience again.

And then I’m going to fix her.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SAVVY

It’s blisteringlyhot when I open my eyelids. They scrape like sandpaper. It’s made worse by my stomach grumbling, reminding me that I’ve fallen into old habits over the last few days.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’ve probably been sliding into self-destruct mode for over six months, but I can control it—I always have before.

It’s the marching band of monkeys jumping around in my skull that’s really ruining my day before it’s even started, so I allow my eyes to drift closed.

“Here.”

My possum game is strong, and I play dead for a full thirty seconds before opening one eye again.

Grey is fully dressed in a three-piece suit, with his jacket unbuttoned, sitting against the headboard beside me with a plate of something that smells divine, but as I squint at it, my mind falls into old habits.

If you give a mouse a cookie…

That’s how I spiral.

One bite craves two, and two turns into everything in the fridge. One is never enough. If I eat whatever’s on that plate, I’llwant more, and that will lead to obsessing about something else, until I’m binging and purging and hating myself for being weak.

It’s just easier not to eat at all—at least then I can be proud of my self-control instead of loathing my weaknesses.

He narrows his eyes as if he knows exactly what I’m doing.

Fuck, fuckity, fuck.

What happened last night?

That shrew Bethany comes to mind first, and then the floodgates open. Rent-a-womb, the threat against Clover, a decree of marriage, wine, and then…nothing.

Groaning, I sit up. Last night was an anomaly. I don’t lose control…ever. But I suppose even ice queens have their limit of shit they can take.

The record scratch in my mind is loud enough that I flinch. I haven’t had Riley’s voice in my head in years, but he’s the only one who ever called me ice queen.

Mental note—call my attorney and confirm that Riley is accounted for. He should have restrictions that keep him in Vegas.

“Monroe, take it.” Ah, he’s back to being Drill Bit today—half drill sergeant, half pushy asshat forcing himself where he doesn’t belong. His gaze, full of pity that I hate, finds mine.

And there’s the panic I know so well—the shame and fear that always arrives after the fun of too much alcohol. What the hell did I do to upset him now? I know better than to drink on an empty stomach, but come on.

Yesterday was a lot for anyone.

Apparently, I’m too slow for Drill Bit’s liking, because the next thing I know, a piece of mouth-wateringly delicious-smelling bacon bangs against my lips.

“Are you—” He shoves the entire piece of maple-flavored bacon past my lips, then pushes my chin up to close my mouth.