Page 59 of Billion Dollar Revenge

I decide to surprise her by swinging by and saying hi.

Saying goodbye to everyone, I leave the bar after ordering takeout wings and brownies.

From the bar to the studio, it only takes me fifteen minutes. I wait outside the studio in the corridor, and from my position, I can see her through the glass doors, but she hasn’t noticed me yet.

The door opens, and clients leave, smiling at me as they pass.

I clench my jaw when I spot a guy chatting her up. He’s physically close. Too close. She laughs. His hand is on her shoulder, and my body tightens. The image of my ex in bed witha co-worker invades my senses. It feels like it's on replay in front of my eyes. Is it happening all over again?

I shake my head. No. Chelsea’s different. She's not the same. We aren’t together. We have an arrangement.

Then why does this single image before me rattle me and leave me doubting what we share?

He finally leaves, passing me with a nod. I don't move an inch. I don't want to gesture to him.

When the studio is empty, I slip inside.

“Hey,” she says with a bright smile, walking over to me.

I hand over the box with wings. It’s dented where I dug my finger in when I watched her with the guy. She’s completely unaware of the turmoil running through me that I felt from witnessing the guy touching her.

Her lit-up face makes me push it out of my mind. I try to think of all the sweet words she's said to me.

She takes the container, and I pull her closer, my hand drifting to her lower back. I’m unable to stop myself from touching her.

“What’s this?” she asks, her voice tinged with suspicion.

“Wings.”

“Thanks. Where are they from?” she asks and pulls back, making me drop my hand.

“A midtown bar. I was there with my brothers. Figured you wouldn't have eaten yet.”

She opens the box, shimmying a little when she sees what’s inside.

“Buffalo wings and brownies. You spoil me.”

“Hey, I know how to treat a lady,” I say with a wink.

“So you’re not that rusty, then?”

I wince and grab my middle as if she hurt me.

She laughs, closing the lid and peering back at me. “Did you want to come in while I finish cleaning up?”

“I can’t. I have an early work call, and you need to clean up and get home.”

“Oh, sure. Thanks for the food,” she says hesitantly, like she’s picking up on theoff vibeI’m giving.

I don’t want it to be a big deal so I speak before she can. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You will.”

I smile and kiss her cheek, inhaling her sweet scent. “Don’t stay up too late, wing queen.”

“Only if you promise not to dream about wings all night,” she teases back.

“Deal. But I can’t promise I won’t dream about you,” I say with a grin.

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