Page 16 of The Hookup Situation (Billionaire Situation #5)

JULIE

T he evening shift at Cozy Coffee is brutal.

After being up since dawn, I’m running on fumes and caffeine.

Every tourist in Colorado needs a complicated coffee drink fifteen minutes before we close.

My body is sore from Jessie’s torture session, I smell like espresso and pumpkin spice, and there’s definitely whipped cream in my hair somewhere.

“Go,” Tracy says, practically shoving me toward the back. “Your man’s been sitting outside in that ridiculously expensive car for ten minutes.”

“He’s early.”

“He’s eager and putting in effort. There’s a difference.” She waggles her eyebrows. “I’ll finish closing. You’ve been glowing all day, and I want that energy to continue through your date.”

I glance through the window and see Nick scrolling on his phone in the driver’s seat. Even from here, even after a long day, the sight of him makes my stomach flutter.

“Thanks, Tracy.”

I grab my stuff from the back and head outside. Nick looks up from his phone and smiles, getting out to open my door.

“Hey,” he says. “Long day? ”

“The longest. Plus, I’m sore from yoga, and I smell like I bathed in sugar coffee.” I gesture at myself. “Can we stop by my place first? I desperately need a shower before dinner.”

“Of course. We have a reservation at eight thirty, so there’s plenty of time.”

“Bookers doesn’t take reserva?—”

“Money talks.” He grins as I slide into the passenger seat.

“I could get used to this,” I say with a wink.

The drive to my condo is two minutes, tops. When we step inside, I immediately kick off my shoes.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I say, heading toward the stairs. “Actually, come up with me. You can sit on the toilet and talk to me while I shower.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

I pause halfway up the stairs, grinning at his expression. “Blaire does it all the time. We chat while I shower. Otherwise, you’re just sitting down here, alone, like a weirdo.”

“How is that any different from sitting in your bathroom like a weirdo?”

“Oh, come on. I want to talk!”

His ears turn pink, but he follows me up the stairs. “This is what female friendships are like?”

“Oh, yeah. Prepare to be educated.”

He follows me into my bedroom, immediately distracted by the organized chaos.

“Is that a stuffed llama wearing a sombrero?” He points to my bed.

“His name is Fernando. He helped me get through a rough patch, so no judgment.”

“I already like him.” Nick picks it up, then notices my bedside table. “You read three books at once?”

“Different moods require different books. Romance, thriller, and self-help.” I head into the bathroom, scooping up my workout clothes and throwing them in the laundry basket. “ Come on, boyfriend. Bring Fernando if you need emotional support.”

He follows me in, still holding the llama. “We’re really doing this?”

“Yes! Now, be a good boy and sit.” I point at the toilet lid. “And close your eyes while I get in.”

“This is definitely not what I expected when you invited me up.”

“What did you expect? A striptease?” I say, turning on the water.

“A man can only dream.”

“Eyes closed, dreamer.”

“They’re closed. Scout’s honor.”

I undress quickly and step into the shower. “Okay, you can open them. Tell me about your afternoon. What did you do after you dropped me off?”

“Spent an hour arranging those bear pillows you made me buy,” I say.

“Please tell me you took a picture,” I say, as I scrub away the remnants of a day in the life of a barista.

“No, I absolutely didn’t document my pillow arrangement.”

“Should have. It’s always nice to have evidence that you’re being a real human. And you could’ve updated your Phase One slides for your PowerPoint presentation.”

“Harsh.” I can hear him shifting on the toilet lid. “Oh, I picked up a coffee maker.”

“Why? I saw one on the counter at the cabin.”

“I bought a normal one that makes normal coffee for normal people.”

“Look at you, embracing your inner basic bitch. I love this for you.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Of course. You’re giving up your rich people’s elitist ways and living a humble, regular-coffee-maker life. But I’ll be honest with you, an espresso machine is a must. It’s one thing I’m a total snob about. But then again, caffeine runs in my veins. ”

Nick howls with laughter as I finish rinsing my hair and washing my body.

“Can you grab me a towel? In the closet next to you.”

I hear him moving around, then laughing.

“Jules?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you have seven bottles of the same shampoo?”

“It was on sale, and I had coupons! That stuff is expensive. Stop judging me and hand me a towel.”

The shower curtain moves, and his hand appears with a fluffy towel, his eyes comically squeezed shut.

“You look ridiculous.” I laugh, taking it, patting the water from my face.

“I’m just being respectful.”

“I guess.” I wrap the towel around myself and step out. “You can open them.”

He opens one eye cautiously, then both, and his gaze does a quick sweep before he deliberately focuses on my face. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself. Come keep me company while I figure out what to wear.”

“So bossy,” he says.

“Does it bother you?” I ask.

“What?”

“My bossiness.”

“No,” he tells me. “I appreciate it.”

That makes me smile.

Nick follows me to my closet, still carrying Fernando.

“Friends help each other pick out outfits,” I say, flipping through dresses. “What should I wear?”

“I don’t know,” he says.

I stop and look at him. “Haven’t you ever had a female friend?”

“Not like this,” he admits.

“You’re missing out. This is where all the best gossip happens.” I pull out two dresses. “Which one? ”

“Either one,” he says.

“What’s your favorite color?” I ask, shoving them back onto the rack as my eyes scan across the many colors.

“Green,” he says without hesitation. “Like the color of your eyes.”

I grin and pull out my emerald silk dress. “Turn around.”

“Seriously?”

“Unless you want a show.”

“I mean …”

“Nick!”

He turns, covering his eyes with Fernando. “The llama sees nothing.”

I drop the towel and slip into the dress quickly. “Okay.”

He turns back, and his mouth falls open slightly. “That’s … you’re …”

“Words are sometimes hard.”

“You’re going to cause accidents.”

“Don’t flatter me,” I say with a laugh.

“Honest.” He sets Fernando down and moves closer. “You look incredible.”

“It’s just a dress.”

“It’s never just anything with you.” He reaches out, fingers barely grazing the silk at my waist. “Tonight will be torturous.”

“Why?” I ask, picking up the towel and doing my best to dry my hair.

“Because I’ll have to perform through dinner, pretending you’re mine as everyone wishes you were theirs.”

I laugh. “So, sell it. Let them know I’m yours. Give no doubts.”

“Don’t give me permission to be possessive,” he says.

“Permission granted.” I walk past him and add some product to keep my waves. I hurry and swipe on some lipstick and mascara.

“Wow,” he says as we head downstairs. “You clean up nice.”

“So do you,” I tell him.

I lock up and grab his hand as we make our way to Bookers. It’s only a few blocks away, and the evening air is perfect. It’s cool enough to be comfortable.

Leaves from the trees hanging over the sidewalk drift down between us.

They’re bright orange and brown and scatter across the sidewalk.

The air carries the faint smells of woodsmoke and cinnamon—a reminder that it’s mid-September.

Starting tomorrow, the streets will be packed with tourists and will remain that way through the new year, especially after the ski season begins.

We pass the bookstore, where three teenage girls quickly appear in the window, watching us.

“Is this kind of interest normal?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” I say, avoiding their gaze. “They’ll move on to someone else eventually. It’s just been a while since I’ve dated, after everyone thought I’d marry Craig. I think the whole town is shocked. And many of them have no idea who you are yet.”

The wind picks up, sending more leaves swirling around us like confetti. We pause at the street corner to let a car pass before we cross. Nick turns to glance at me, and I notice how the streetlamp catches the auburn in his hair.

“Serious question,” I say. “Could you imagine yourself living here?”

He hesitates as we cross the street. “Yeah. Zane is here. When we were teenagers, we always talked about living close so our kids could grow up together.”

“You want kids?” I ask.

Nick is utterly breathtaking.

“Maybe one day.” His thumb rubs across mine, and his hand squeezes my fingers a little tighter.

We approach Bookers, and there are huddles of people waiting outside. Nick opens the door, allowing me to enter first.

My eyes widen. “I can’t believe you had them reserve a table.”

“Why not? It’s a Friday night, and they’re packed. I wanted to be guaranteed dinner with my beautiful girlfriend,” he says .

“You’re going to make me blush,” I tell him, leaning closer.

The hostess greets us, pulling us away from our conversation.

“Two, for Nicolas Banks,” he says, and she cheerfully leads us across the room.

As we pass tables and booths, heads turn to watch us.

“People are staring,” I whisper.

“Because you’re stunning,” he says, gently placing his hand on my shoulder to pull me close.

I melt into him as he escorts me like I’m royalty.

My pulse jumps when I slide into the booth and he sits right beside me. His arm settles around me, and I lean into his warmth. Being close to him is too easy. Our legs touch under the table, and neither of us moves away.

Menus are placed in front of us, but I don’t need it because I have it memorized. I open it, though, to give myself something to focus on other than him.

“Would you like to start with some drinks and appetizers?” the server asks, and then pauses when Nick turns to her. “I, uh … Nick, uh … huge fan. I literally had a poster of you in my bedroom.”

I smile, understanding because Nick has a way of scrambling people’s thoughts.

“Thanks.”

“I was devastated when you retired,” the girl says.