The Billionaire Game 3(25)

Mom sputtered like a faulty faucet. “I was just trying—I only meant to—your best interests, all I had—”

I walked out of the house without letting her finish.

And I felt better about that than I had felt about anything in a long damn time.

And now I knew exactly what I had to do.

My mom was wrong about lots of things, like how she never believed in me, but she was right about one thing: guys like Asher didn’t come around every day. Not because he was a billionaire or had all the right connections, but because he believed in me, had believed in my talent and my vision and my hard work all along.

Okay, he’d lied to me once. But was I really going to keep punishing him for that when he was so clearly repentant? Was I really going to punish myself by keeping that hot ass out of my bed?

When sticking up for myself took precedence over getting me some really hot sex, clearly I had taken things too far.

And God help me, I really liked that fucking geek.

I found myself smiling as I thought of him, a spring in my step as I strolled down the street. I pulled out my cell phone to call a taxi, already planning exactly what words and actions I was going to use to let Asher know that I had forgiven him.

It was time to tell Asher how I felt, partly with words, but mostly with my mouth all over his body, and maybe an extended explanation between the sheets.

You know, in case he didn’t get it the first time.



#



I tipped the taxi driver generously as he let me out at Asher’s apartment, my head swimming with delicious anticipation. I practically skipped up the steps to press the bell, and then I couldn’t resist pressing it again, and again. I couldn’t wait to hear his voice; I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

I should have realized that something was up from the way he answered the buzzer. “Uh, Kate?” His voice was puzzled and scratchy over the intercom. “What are you doing here?”

But I was too busy giggling at the happy little butterflies to listen to all the warning bells going off like they had a part in the Trans Siberian Orchestra. “I have something to tell you!” I practically sang. “Let me in!”

“Okay…all right. Just hang on a minute.”

Even then, my brain refused to decode the reluctance in his voice.

I almost floated up to his apartment, feeling as though I were walking on clouds. I could hardly believe it. Everything in my life was finally fitting together. Everything was going to be just perfect.

Asher opened the door a crack, just enough for me to see that he must have recently taken a swim; he wore nothing but a pair of tight black trunks, and his hair was slicked back, his skin still slick with water, little droplets trickling down the tanned skin stretched over his taut muscles. I felt my mouth watering, and I very nearly abandoned my original plan in favor of jumping him then and there.

But no. Words were important. Being clear was important. I had to let him know just what he meant to me.

“Oh, Asher, I—”

And then I saw Evangeline behind him.

Wearing a skirt short enough to qualify as a handkerchief, and holding a half-drained glass of champagne.

I felt the blood drain out of my face and the floor fall out from under me. How could I have actually thought he’d changed? That he’d be different than the Asher Young I knew and loathed? Of course he had a woman over. He always had a woman over. And he always would! I was just one of many, regardless of the depth I’d imagined our relationship to have. How could I be so stupid?

“Well,” I bit out. “I see you’re busy. I wouldn’t want to disturb you two or waste your time. Goodbye.”

“Kate, wait—”

But I was already gone, and only the walls of the stairwell saw the tears I dashed from my eyes as I fled.





EIGHT




After that little fiasco, which had made the Hindenberg look like a light-hearted campfire prank, I was in no mood to ever leave my apartment again.

Unfortunately for me, I’m a really good friend, and even the emotional upheaval of the century couldn’t keep me from Lacey’s wedding rehearsal dinner.

I was in no mood to encounter Asher and Evangeline or another of his dates on my own again, so I decided to take along a little back-up this time: a date. A date whose name just happened to be Brody Dalton. That would annoy the hell out of Asher for sure, and hey, did I need another reason?

Now I just had to recruit Brody to the cause.

I dialed his number; he picked it up on the third ring. “Kate!” he said. “Great to hear from you. Sorry our meeting the other day devolved into such unpleasantness. I truly thought that—”

“Oh, it’s not your fault,” I said as sincerely as I could manage. Always a good idea to soften someone up before you asked for a favor. “Really, I’m very grateful that you thought of me.”