Page 6 of The Billionaire's Naughty List

"Lily—"

I force a smile, but my heart aches worse than my toes did.

"Seriously. All warmed up." I flash my hands, showing that the color is returning to normal. "And if you don't mind, I need to see if I can salvage my dress."

"I mind. Tell me what's going on." He crowds closer.

"Nothing's going on." I give his chest a little shove. "Now go. Let me get the lake water out of my hair in peace."

4

ELLIOT

"I can't do that," I admit, emotion making my mouth feel dry and cottony, which is ironic given the humidity.

"What? Yes, you can. You walked in here. March right back out again."

I shake my head, pressing even closer to her. Lily backs up a step. Then another. Until her shoulder blades are pressed against the tile. I feel a momentary satisfaction when her chin tips up and a little gasp leaves those sexy lips. My inner cave man likes crowding her, which is probably a little messed up, but true nevertheless.

"Later. After we've talked." I reach over and turn the water to a warmer temperature. Then I plant my hands against the wall, next to her shoulders, caging her in.

She gives a soft little huff of indignation, but her hands come up, resting just above my hip bones. Is she holding me at bay or keeping me close? I can't quite tell.

"There's nothing to talk about?—"

"Yes, there is. I didn’t get a card from you this year.”

Her mouth drops open comically. “There’s no way you came out here because I didn’t send you a Christmas card.”

“So you admit you didn’t send one.” Maybe it’s silly of me, but I was looking forward to her card, to that connection with her. Especially since I hadn’t seen her this year. Like clockwork, a cute seasonal card has been in my mailbox on December first every year since she came out to Seattle for college.

The first of the month came and went with no word from her. No card in my mailbox. No heart dotting theIin her name.

She cocks her head to the left, staring at me with open astonishment. “Why on earth would I send you one? You crushed?—”

She bites off the words, but I know what she was going to say and I hate the truth. That I hurt her. I hurt her and then spent the whole year thinking about her. I lost count of how many times I started to text her, only to delete them. All with the misguided belief that I could survive without her.

“I was wrong."

In any other moment, the look on her face would have me doubled over laughing. There's a shocked triple blink, then her eyes widen and her lips part as her jaw drops and her head jerks back.

She snaps her lips closed, but only for a second. "What—what were you wrong about?"

Steam swirls around us, thick and seductive. This is not how I planned for this conversation to go, but I need to be flexible.

"I was wrong when I told you that what you felt was just a crush. I lied when I told you I didn't feel the same way. I lied when I told you I don't think of you, because I do. Lily, I wake up wondering if you've had your first cup of coffee yet. And I go to sleep wondering about your day."

There. I said it. I admitted it. I might burn in hell, but it'll be worth it.

She stares at me for several long seconds. Is time standing still? Why isn't she blinking?

She shakes her head. I can't be sure if it's in disbelief or she's trying to clear brain fog.

"Back up?—"

"What?" I lean away, my brittle heart cracking, but she holds tight to my hips.

"We need—you need to go back to the beginning." She closes her eyes and her nose does that cute scrunchy thing it does when she's upset or sad.

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