One Night With A Billionaire(90)
Shut the fuck up, her loins said.
Kylie hesitated. Emotion warred with common sense. In the end, she listened to her loins. “Um, sure.”
“You pick the place. Anywhere you like.” He was now standing so close to her that she could smell his aftershave, and her knees went weak. Why did he have to smell so freaking good?
“Um.” She gestured at Star’s apartment. “In there, I guess.” It was getting increasingly hard to focus with him so near to her. Longing was threatening to take over her brain and dump out all common sense and replace it with pure lust.
Which, honestly, didn’t sound so bad at the moment.
He gestured for her to walk first, and she did, heading back toward the apartment. Her entire body was incredibly aware of his hand moving to rest at the small of her back. It was a simple gesture, and an utterly possessive one, and she couldn’t stop thinking about it if she tried.
As they went into Star’s apartment, though, she cringed at what he must think of it. Cade constantly wore expensive suits, and she’d never seen him in anything more casual than a sports jacket. Every hotel he’d stayed in was pricey and he normally had a suite. Star’s apartment had blacklight posters of mushrooms, beads hanging from doorways, and smelled faintly of incense. Her couch was old and brown and ratty, and Kylie’s blankets were still spread on it from when she’d woken up this morning. God, what must he think of them? She hurried forward and grabbed the pillow and blankets, piling them into her arms and rushing toward Star’s bedroom. “Let me just clear you off a spot.”
She quickly flung the blankets on Star’s bed and returned to the living room, only to see Star holding up one of her rose quartz crystals and dragging it through the air. “You have the prettiest aura,” she told him. “It’s incredible.”
“Thank you,” he said, grinning. “Yours isn’t so bad, either.”
Star beamed at him and pocketed her crystal. “Can I get you something to eat or drink? Kylie and I were just about to drown our sorrows in ice cream.”
“Is that so?” His smile turned to Kylie, and she saw it falter a bit. Just a bit. “Are there a lot of sorrows to drown?”
“Oh, you have no idea”
“Star,” Kylie barked. “Please.”
Her friend blinked. “Oh. Of course. How silly of me. Mr. Fancy Aura, why don’t you take my ice cream and eat with Kylie? I need to walk down to the store anyhow. I’m fresh out of, uh, packing tape.” She gave him a brilliant smile, grabbed her purse, and then turned to Kylie and gave her an exaggerated wink. “See you in about three hours.”
As Star left the room, Cade turned back to Kylie, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. “Does she need a ride to the store? I hate to think of her walking so far.”
“The store’s around the corner,” Kylie corrected, heading to the kitchen to retrieve the ice cream. “She’s just being a good friend.”
“Ah,” Cade said. “I have a few of those.”
“I bet they’ve never analyzed your aura,” Kylie grumbled as she picked up the two bowls of ice cream from Star’s avocado-colored countertop. God, Star had made the servings absolutely huge. “Um, so this looks like a lot of ice cream but it’s also dinner,” she explained, handing him a bowl.
“Would you like a waffle to go with this?” he asked as he took the bowl. “I know where we can get one.”
Her laughter came out of her nose as an embarrassing snort. Way to go, Kylie. They held the ice cream bowls in front of them, standing awkwardly and staring at each other. Finally, Kylie decided to break the silence. “I’d offer for us to sit in the dining room, but that’s Star’s work area.”
“Is she . . . a fortune-teller?” Cade asked.
“You’d think that, but no, she’s just a flake.” Kylie smiled. “She goes to estate sales, scrounges through dead people’s stuff, and resells it on eBay.”
His brows rose. “Sounds morbid.”
“She says it’s an adventure and beats working in an office.” Kylie shrugged and gestured at the old brown sofa. “Shall we?”
They both sat down, and Cade gamely ate a spoonful of Cherry Garcia, his gaze on her the entire time. Kylie couldn’t eat. She was too nervous, too awkward, too ready to fling herself into his arms and sob that she wanted to love him desperately but fate was a cruel bitch.
“Are you . . . not hungry?” Cade asked, glancing at the bowl clutched in her hands.
Dutifully, she put the spoon in her mouth and took a bite. Phish Food. Her favorite. Today, though, it tasted more like Phish Glue. She forced herself to swallow, and gave him another awkward smile.