Page 28 of The Billionaire's Ride

“We agreed I’d pay next time. Remember?”

Drew leans back against the vinyl booth like he’s never had a woman buy him a meal. With his kind of wealth, he probably hasn’t. “Thank you.”

I shrug. “Eh, it’s the least I could do after pounding on your door this morning.”

He bites his lower lip. “Kate, you can pound on my door anytime you want.”

We both know he isn’t talking about his door, but now I’m sure he wants to pound me. Maybe the rumors will be true after all.

I leave Drew at the diner and take a taxi back to my hotel. As much as I want another ride, I can’t risk Beau seeing me on the back of a motorcycle with some leather-clad guy. A hop, skip, and a jump later, I’m pounding my fist at Beau’s door. It swings open instantly.

“Kate!” She beams and hits me with one of her classic, big hugs. The scent of perfume is remarkably comforting. I pull away and rest my hand down on her bare, very tanned shoulder, grazing her sandy-blonde locks and taking in her floral maxi dress.

I stare into her ocean-blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Where else would I be? You’re making a comeback, and I want a front-row seat!” She flashes a sunny smile.

“So this isn’t an escape from L.A. trip to get overyou know who?” I ask.

“No!” She knits her brow for a moment. “Okay, maybe a tiny bit. I need something to take my mind off the whole thing.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” If there’s anyone who can get me through this crazy couple of weeks, it’s Beau.

“Me too.” She smiles, revealing her adorable dimpled cheeks. “You look amazing, by the way. Did you have a facial?”

I laugh. “No.”

“Well, something’s different. Did you meet a guy or something?”

No way! Is it that obvious? My cheeks begin to burn. Crap. I can’t lie to her. She’ll smell it and dig the truth out of me anyway. “How did you know that?”

“Cheeri-Ooh-dot-CO-dot-UK.”

My heart plunks in my stomach. “You saw that?” Does the whole world know I’m riding with the bad boy billionaire?

“Yeah, I get alerts anytime my bestie’s in the news. So when were you going to tell me aboutBlakesie?”

Blakesie. What a terrible nickname. Could the press be any worse? “When there was something to tell.”

“Girl! You got on the back of a motorcycle in a dress. You. Kate! That’s something to tell.”

I step inside her room, hop on the bed, and hug one of her pillows close to my chest the way I would when we were in middle school. “Nothing happened.”

She shakes her head and crawls on the bed beside me with an expectant look. “I don’t buy it. Something had to happen to get you to take a ride. So spill the deets!”

I spend the next thirty minutes narrating the exclusive story. Beau’s eyes grow wider and wider with every revelation.

“Whoa, you really like this guy,” Beau says, gawk-eyed.

“What’s not to like? He’s a billionaire with a motorcycle and a handsome face. And he’s everywhere.”

“Well, not everywhere.” Beau flicks a glance at my lower region. “So what’s the plan for tonight? Are you going to go all the way?”

“All the way? What is this 1955?”

“Kind of. You’ve been celibate for what? A year?” Her use of the word celibate doesn’t sit well with me.

“That was circumstantial.”

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