Page 32 of The Hookup Situation (Billionaire Situation #5)

NICK

I wake to the weight of Julie pressed against my side.

For a moment, I’m disoriented, knowing this isn’t my penthouse. Then I remember I’m in Julie’s bed and what we did last night.

A smile touches my lips as I realize I’m waking up next to her for the first time. I’ll never get to experience this again.

She’s still asleep, red hair fanned across the pillow. I can feel her breath against my shoulder. I think about yesterday at the orchard and the sunlight against her skin.

“I can feel you staring,” she mutters without opening her eyes, then smiles.

“How?”

“Your breathing changed.” She stretches like a cat, pressing closer. “What time is it?”

I reach over and check my phone. “Just after seven.”

“Shit.” Her eyes fly open. “I have to be at work?—”

“Sierra is covering your morning shift,” I remind her. “You texted her last night, remember?”

She relaxes back against me. “Right. I’m not used to taking any time off. ”

“Maybe you should get used to it. I’ve heard having work-life balance is important.”

“Yeah? Teach me how.”

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her closer against me. “I’m trying.”

She stares at my mouth. “Waking up to you is my new favorite thing.”

“Me too, sweetheart.”

We lie here for a moment, just holding each other. I run my fingers through her hair, and it’s surreal, being with her like this.

I feel alive, to the point I want to stand on the balcony attached to her bedroom and scream it for the entire town to hear.

“I should shower,” she says, but doesn’t move.

“We could share,” I suggest. “Conserve water.”

She laughs. “We already marked it off my list.”

“Partially,” I tell her. “We didn’t define what sex is.”

She kisses me. “Join me?”

“Lead the way.”

She slips out of bed, completely naked and gorgeous in the morning light. Julie is a goddess.

I follow her to the bathroom, already half-hard.

The shower is small, forcing us to press close under the spray. Julie tips her head back, water streaming over her.

“You’re staring again,” she says.

“Can’t help it.” I reach for her body wash and loofah, wanting to touch her all over. “Sometimes, I find it hard to believe you’re real and that we’re here.”

She places her hands against the tiles, and I start at her shoulders, massaging as I go. She moans when I work out a knot.

“That feels amazing.”

My hands slide lower, over her breasts, her stomach. When I reach between her legs, she gasps.

I kiss her neck, fingers teasing. “Let me take care of you.”

I slide two fingers inside her, and she rocks back against me .

“See? Getting you all clean.”

“From the inside out.”

I work her until she’s shaking. When I feel her getting close, I turn her around and drop to my knees. I spread her legs wider and taste her. Her hands immediately tangle in my wet hair. A broken moan escapes her as I take my time, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her pull my hair harder.

Before she comes, I stand up and turn her around. “Palms flat on the wall.”

She does as I said, and then seconds later, I thrust deep inside of her. She screams out with satisfaction as I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her tight.

I don’t stop, holding her steady as she arches her ass for me, creating more friction. Her cries echo off the bathroom walls as she comes. I chase my release, following behind her.

“Wow,” she pants out as I lean forward, kissing her neck and ear. “Is this real?”

“Hell yes, it is.”

She turns around, her back against the wall. She looks up into my eyes and smiles. Julie opens her mouth to say something, and before she can get it out, I hear pounding on her door.

“Are you expecting someone?”

“No.” Julie groans.

The knock comes again—harder.

“Maybe they’ll go away,” I suggest.

“Julie Marie! I know you’re home!” A woman’s voice carries through the house.

Julie’s eyes widen. “Oh no, that’s my mother.”

“Your—”

“Where are you at, sweetie?”

The front door opens and closes.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Julie scrambles out of the shower, grabbing a towel. “She’s inside. My mom has a key.”

“What? ”

“Get dressed. Now .”

“Your dad and I are here,” she announces.

As she rushes to dry off, I hear the creak of the stairs being taken to the second floor, where Julie’s room is.

Her eyes go wide. She throws me a towel. “Let me get rid of them.”

I smirk. “Breathe. You’re a thirty-five-year-old woman.”

“True. But I’ll always be their innocent little girl.”

“Innocent? Give me a damn break.” I steal a kiss.

Her eyes scan down my body.

“I want more of that later.”

“My point,” I tell her. “You’re no angel.”

“I’m coming up!” her mom says. “Hope you’re decent.”

“Go,” I say, but not before I pull her against me, kissing her.

Footsteps traveling down the short hallway have us scrambling. They’re heading straight toward us.

When we break apart, I rush to pull on my clothes.

“Julie?” Her mom’s voice is closer now. “I brought breakfast from the shop and—oh!”

Julie steps out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

“Mom. Dad,” Julie says suspiciously. “Can we go downstairs?”

“Are you alone?” her mom asks.

“Uh, I …”

I take this as my cue and open the door.

A woman who looks like an older version of Julie—same red hair, same green eyes—stands at the doorway. Behind her is a tall man with graying hair and suspicious eyes.

“I’m Nick.” I step forward, offering my hand. “Nick Banks. Nice to meet you both.”

Julie might explode from embarrassment, and I find it adorable.

Her mom’s eyes light up. “Oh! You must be the boyfriend everyone has told us about!”

“Everyone?” Julie and I say in unison .

“The whole town’s talking,” she insists. “I thought it was a rumor, to be honest.”

“Okay, okay, can we please take this conversation downstairs?” Julie asks, pushing them forward.

We all head downstairs, and I can feel Julie’s tension radiating off her like summer heat. Her mother immediately makes herself at home in the kitchen, pulling goodies from the bags she brought. There are caramel apples, maple scones, and miniature pecan pies.

“Let me make you both breakfast,” I offer, moving toward the stove.

“Oh, no, dear. We already ate,” her mother says, but she’s studying me with interest. “We stopped by the diner. Marge finally rolled out her pumpkin pancakes for the season.”

“First day of pumpkin pancakes is basically a town holiday,” her dad adds, extending his hand for a proper shake now. His grip is firm, testing. “I’m Richard. And pardon my daughter for being so rude, but this is Sharon, my wife.”

“So very nice to meet you,” I say genuinely.

“I used to watch you play, Banks. You were a monster on the ice.”

I chuckle, but I’m flattered. “Yeah? I only act that way when I have skates on.”

Her dad laughs. “You’re a legend.”

“Nah,” I say.

“You’re just being humble, which is fine. It’s a good quality to have. You know you were the best.”

I shrug.

“I saw you donated to the library,” Sharon says. “That was so generous.”

“Okay, please don’t bombard him,” Julie tells them, turning on her espresso machine. “Please.”

“The donation was made in my sister’s memory.”

Something shifts in her dad’s expression. “Sorry for your loss. That’s respectable, honoring her that way. ”

“Thank you.”

Sharon is practically beaming as she watches us.

“Oh, Julie, honey, look at you!” She clasps her hands together. “I haven’t seen this look on you since Buddy Madison.”

“Mom!” Julie’s face turns bright red. “Why would you bring him up?”

“Who’s Buddy Madison?” I ask, intrigued.

“Her first love,” Sharon says. “They were inseparable.”

“Until he cheated on me with Bethany Collins,” Julie mutters.

Sharon reaches over and touches Julie’s hand. “But look at you now. That same sparkle in your eyes, except …” She looks between us. “This is different. Bigger.”

“Mom, please .”

“What? I’m just saying what I see.” She turns to me. “Yesterday, Mrs. Henderson cornered me at the grocery store, said you two were glowing at the festival.”

“Mrs. Henderson needs a hobby,” Julie mutters.

Her dad laughs. “She has one. It’s called being in everyone’s business.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Julie says, gesturing at her parents. “You literally broke into my house.”

“We have a key. That’s not breaking in. Besides, we wanted to meet Nick properly.” She turns to me. “So, you’re from New York City?”

“I live there now, but I grew up in a small town a few hours outside of the city. The population is about the same as Cozy Creek.”

Richard nods approvingly. “Good. City boys don’t usually understand places like this.”

“Dad’s not a fan of tourists,” Julie explains.

“Pumpkin peepers,” Richard says with disdain. “They clog up the streets, can’t drive worth a damn, and act like we’re here for their entertainment.”

“Richard,” Sharon warns, but she’s smiling .

“He’s not wrong,” I say. “That’s why I rented out Coleman’s Orchard yesterday. I want and need privacy.”

Julie’s parents exchange surprised looks.

“You rented the entire orchard?” Richard asks.

“For the afternoon, yes.”

Sharon’s eyes shine. “Oh, that’s so romantic! Richard, remember when you?—”

“Sharon,” Richard warns, but his mouth twitches with a suppressed smile. “I didn’t have hockey money.”

He looks at me with something that resembles an approval, and I take it.

“You’re here through October?” she asks me.

“Yep,” I say. “I have to be back in the city on November first.”

Julie’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently.

“Well,” Sharon says, brightening, “I hope not forever.”

“It won’t be,” I say, meaning it. “My mom and stepfather are staying in Cozy Creek through the holidays. I always spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with my mom, no matter where she is in the world.”

Julie’s mouth falls open, and then she quickly closes it. I lift a brow at her.

“Oh, wonderful! We should have a family dinner sometime,” Sharon says.

“Mom, slow down,” Julie pleads. “You’re already planning holiday dinners, and you just met him.”