Her Billionaires(75)

Nope. Time to go back and have your cake.

And maybe finish eating it, too.



The more she talked, the calmer he got. Zen. Focus on what is. Just breathe. Let her existence interfere with nothing. What she said, she said. Who she was, she was.

When she whacked Dylan with the balls, it just was.

And it was funny as hell.

Mike pulled out every meditative awareness technique he could think of, with more than ten years of reading, practice, conferences, and seminars under his belt. Nothing seemed to work very well with Josie, though; she was spitfire and alllll reaction. Completely unaware of how she seemed to everyone else kinetically, she just moved through time and space as sheer energy.

He remembered a time when he was like that, years ago, a time when he was so exhausted all the time. So busy searching for something, judging everything, fiercely protective and loyal to his loved ones and scanning, yearning, sorting and journeying to find —what?

He hadn’t known. Still wasn’t sure, but he definitely understood now that slowing down, acting rather than reacting, and just being present helped him to find it.

All this back patting must be tiring, Mike, his inner voice said, clearing its throat. He sighed.

Touché.

Nothing about the night was going as planned. Plans. His plans; Dylan had been very kind back there, not blurting out the truth. Having Dylan surprise them at the cabin had been Mike’s bright idea. Stupid stupid stupid, the voice said now, a taunting, lilting tone.

It wasn’t supposed to look like they’d ganged up on her. He’d envisioned a different outcome, not the threesome they’d enjoyed but more of a quiet talk, some soul bearing, and a gentle discussion about possibilities.

Dylan had changed the plan, coming far later than planned and interrupting them at the most delicate of moments, then broaching the subject like a bull in a china shop. Delicacy and tact were never his strong suits, to say the least.

When she’d agreed, Mike had been as shocked as she probably was. Never in a million years would he have pegged her as someone who would, in the heat of the moment (and oh, what a hot one it had been...) make a snap decision like that and just jump. Leap. Go for it.

Have her fill.

The thought made the corner of his mouth shift up, not quite a smile, definitely not a smirk. Washing his face with his hands, he wondered how he and Dylan appeared to Josie. Were they freaks? Jerks? Guys who were somehow mindfucking her best friend?

From the look on her face right now he guessed the answer was All of the Above.

He made himself seem like he was paying attention to the conversation that unfolded before him between him, Josie, and Dylan, but all of his focus was on Laura. She’d gotten up and gone to the bathroom and her skin was still on his lips from that simple kiss. Why had he been so bold? She seemed moved to tears, unable to walk straight.

Maybe that was a result of something earlier. He made a face at the thought. Dylan frowned, watching him. “What?” he mouthed. Mike shook his head imperceptibly and resumed paying attention to Josie, who was giving them hints on how to handle Laura.

If being whacked over the head by their own stupidity could be categorized as a hint.

Right now, he’d take any advice if it had half a chance at working. Why did he know when to back off and give someone space, but was utterly clueless when it came to drawing close? Josie assumed they’d been stalking Laura, coming to Jeddy’s at the same time, and he knew trying to explain that it was a weird coincidence— Jill would have called it “the universe speaking to us”—was futile.

Josie and Laura would believe what they wanted to believe, and nothing he and Dylan said or did would make a difference.

So why were they even trying?

Because.

Because.

That’s all Mike knew. Because. Laura staggered back to her booth and Josie walked away. The old waitress made a lewd comment. Mike inhaled. Mike exhaled. Mike inhaled. Mike exhaled.

And then Dylan stood, eyes flashing and intense, body aimed for Laura’s booth, and Mike stopped breathing.



“Fuck,” Laura whispered.

“What?” Josie asked, sucking the last remnants of ice cream from her spoon.

“Fuck me, Josie!”

“I don’t do girls. Well, except for that one time in college when—”

Laura grabbed Josie’s arm, her fingernails sinking in. “They’re coming over here.”

“And you’re surprised?” Josie looked at Laura like she had three heads.

Three.

As if he owned the joint—no, as if he owned her —Dylan slid into the booth right next to Laura, arm stretching across the back of the booth, his chest against her shoulder. Mike had the decency to stand at the side and look awkward. Because he was awkward. This much, she knew.