Page 27 of The Billionaire's Ride

Drewand I have hardly touched our breakfast since it arrived thirty minutes ago. Our conversation continues playfully. He’s less of a mystery now as I’ve learned his favorite movie, ‘Rocky’, favorite soccer, I mean football, team, Arsenal, and how many motorcycles he owns—fourteen. But he drives Black Jack eighty percent of the time. The more time I spend with him, the more I like him. I like his energy. He feels good to be around.

And I’m really looking forward to being around him tonight for our date. He better not leave me hanging again. If he does, that will be three strikes, and he’ll be out.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I silence it without looking. But it rings again.

“You should probably get that,” Drew says and sips his brew.

“Yeah.” Beau’s name and photo light up the screen. “Hey, you okay? It’s like two a.m.”

“Not where I am,” Beau says, sounding slightly more chipper than our last conversation. Has she gone off to chase Martino in Italy? That’s not typically her style in a distance or breakup scenario. She much more prefers to be pursued. She has her pride. And a thousand other guys who are waiting in line for her.

“Where are you?”

“I’m standing in the lobby at the Royal Regency Hotel, about to head to my room. Where are you?”

My jaw drops. “You’re here?”

“Yes! What’s your room number?”

“Room 532, but I’m out,” I say, glancing at Drew. “Having breakfast.”

“Well, where are you? I’ll meet you there.”

I’m not entirely ready to explain Drew. Especially since her heart’s still mending from Martino. “No, no. I’m done. I’ll head over there. Just text me your room number.” I want to ask her exactly why she’s come all this way to see me. She must not be doing well. I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with an unattainable man in Europe.

I flick a glance at Drew. I’m not going to fall in love with him. I’ve never really been in love. I don’t even think I’m capable of it. Not like Beau is.

I end the call and try not to let my frown fall too low. “My best friend made a surprise visit all the way from L.A., so I have to go.”

“Is that Beau?” he asks, and I feel my heart skip a little beat that he remembered this small detail from our conversation. A man who pays attention, huh?

“Yeah. I’m sorry we have to cut this short.”

“That’s all right. I’ll see you later. For our date,” he says, curling his lips into a sexy smirk.

My cheeks warm at his words, his gaze. “That’s right.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

I hold out my hand. “Let me see your phone.”

“Why? Want to ridicule my musical taste a little more?”

I giggle. “No, so I can give you my phone number.”

“Oh, well, in that case, it’s all yours.” Drew surrenders his phone, and I add my contact under the name Just Kate. There’s an impulse to add a winky face or kiss emoji to my name, butI think better of it. I bet if I scroll his contacts, I’ll find a lot of those. I know what this is. It’s a London fling. Nothing more. For either of us.

“Text me when you arrive, and I’ll meet you outside,” I say, returning his device. His fingers graze the back of my hand and linger there for a moment. The ridges of his fingerprints feel rough on my skin.

“Or I could come up to your door?” he says with a suggestive tone, and I know what he’s suggesting. He should’ve come up yesterday when I gave him the chance. Now, he’ll have to wait.

“No,” I say, and he frowns. “Butmaybeyou can walk me up to my room afterward.” I’m a lingerie designer, which makes me a professional tease.

His frown slowly reverses. “Maybe.”

I try not to grin like I’m not over the moon about meeting up with him later. I dig in my purse for some cash and toss the bills on the table—enough to pay for breakfast and a nice tip.

“What’s that for?” he asks.

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