Page 22 of The Hookup Situation (Billionaire Situation #5)

His eyes stay focused on me. “It’s a date.”

Nick’s phone vibrates and he looks at it again as he moves closer to me.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“Something wrong?”

“Asher texted. Apparently, photos from the festival made it onto some gossip blog.” He shows me his phone.

The headline reads Hockey Heartbreaker Nick Banks Cozies Up with Small-Town Barista .

Below are three photos. One is of us kissing after his speech, him wiping whipped cream off my nose, and one where I’m looking at him like he hung the moon.

“The comments,” Nick says. “Don’t read them.”

Of course, I scroll down.

She’s pretty but so ordinary for him.

Gold-digger alert .

He could do so much better!

Why is he slumming it in some small town?

Did he knock her up? Is that why?

Life isn’t fair.

My stomach drops. It’s worse than what I thought.

“Hey.” Nick takes his phone back. “Don’t. They don’t know our situation. They don’t know us.”

“It doesn’t look like anyone wants us together,” I say, trying to sound unaffected.

“They will never like anyone I’m with. Ever. You’re gorgeous, and haters will try to tilt your crown. Don’t let it get to you, okay? All that matters is you and me and what we think.”

“Okay,” I say. “What do you think?”

“Forever might be nice,” he says.

I crack a smile and pull on yoga pants and a sweater.

Nick sits on my bed, watching me. “When’s the last time you took a real day off and just rested?”

I try to think. “Um …”

“Exactly.” His hands rub my hips. “Spend today catching up on sleep. I’m going to get us breakfast. Real food, not just coffee and croissants.” He kisses me. “I’ll send a car for you at seven.”

“A car?”

“Trust me.” He stands. “You need actual sleep if we’re going to be up late tonight.”

“Ooh, what does that mean?” I ask.

“Tonight is our secret,” he says.

“Absolutely,” I say.

The anticipation of what he has in store is almost too much. Because this, us, whatever we’re doing—it’s ours. Just ours. The rest of the world doesn’t need to know the details .

The town thinks we’re dating, but they don’t need to know about our situation behind closed doors, about the list, about what really happens when we’re alone.

Am I already breaking rules by wanting to shout from the rooftops that Nick Banks just gave me an orgasm in my shower?

“So pretty.” He kisses me once more.

“Should I wear a dress? Jeans? A parka?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says.

“Nick!”

“Wear whatever makes you comfy. But we’ll be outside.”

“Oh. Hmm.” I think about it, wondering what he could’ve planned so fast.

His grin is wicked. “I’ll be back with food in thirty minutes. You’d better be in bed.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, and he rolls his eyes. “Yes, Daddy ?”

I hear his chuckle as he takes the stairs.

I close my eyes, replaying what happened in the shower, squeezing my thighs together at the thought of him touching me.

Fifteen minutes later, the sound of the door creaking open wakes me. Nick takes the stairs up to my room and appears in my bedroom doorway with a bag from the diner.

“Marge made a hangover special.”

“I’m not hungover.”

“No?” He sets the food on my nightstand.

“Okay, yes, I am.”

He smirks. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

The way he says it makes heat pool in my stomach.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that …”

“Eat, then sleep.” He sits on the edge of my bed, watching me unpack the container.

“You’re being very bossy.”

“You like it.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Someone needs to take care of you. When’s the last time you let anyone do that? ”

The question catches me off guard. Craig never … he expected me to take care of him. To be available when he wanted, absent when he didn’t.

“Hey,” Nick says softly. “Where’d you go?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“How different you are from what I expected.”

“Better or worse?”

“Just different.” I take a bite of the eggs. “A good different. You make me realize how much I settled for.”

“Yeah?” Nick’s face softens. “Eat. Sleep. Don’t think about the past.”

“Jealous?”

“Of your exes?” He laughs like they’re a joke. “No. Who has you right now?” He leans in, kissing me slowly.

“You,” I say, and we linger a little longer before he pulls away.

“See you at seven o’clock,” he says, standing before this goes too far, too fast. “The car will text you when it’s outside.”

“Nick?”

“Yeah?”

“No regrets about this morning?”

“Are you kidding me? The sound you make when you come, it’s on my highlight reel.” His eyes darken. “Dream about what I’m going to do to you later.”

I literally kick my feet when I hear him leave. How is this my life?

After he’s gone, I eat the massive breakfast—scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast. I scroll through my phone, looking at all the photos the book club has posted of Nick. Their Insta has turned into a fan club.

Nick

You’re becoming the best part of my day.

Julie

I feel the same.

I fall asleep, smiling, keeping our secret safe, knowing that, in a few hours, we’ll be together again.

Forty-one days of secret touches and crossed-off lists.

Forty days until our Halloween decision.

This man may be the death of me. But, oh, what a way to go.