Page 30 of The Billionaire's Pawfect Match

Ever since my dad got Baxter, I’ve mostly seen him as a pain in the butt. Thanks to Emily, he’s changed into another creature entirely. Hell, I think I might evenlovethe dog.

“Would you like—” Before I can finish witha drink, the lights flicker on.

The blackout is over.

Unfortunately.

I was really enjoying the cozy intimacy of it all, the bubble we had been in. Baxter’s tail thumps on the wooden floor, breaking the silence after the emergence of light. Emily shifts, looking awkward, like she’s been caught revealing too much about herself.

“I guess I should head home,” she says with a small sigh.

As she speaks, I can’t help but feel a tug in my heart. It’s selfish — I know it is, but I want more time with her. I want the lights to flicker back off. I crave the intimacy we’d been sharing,conversations shrouded in shadows giving way to soul-baring honesty.

“Yeah, of course,” I reply with a forced nonchalance, afraid my voice might betray the yearning gnawing at my insides.

Emily shoulders her bag and gives Baxter one last pat. The dog whines, wagging his tail and nudging her hand for more attention. She laughs softly, a sound that makes my heart skip a beat.

“Good night, Baxter,” she murmurs.

“And good night, Isaac,” she says to me, her tone lower — making it feel like a secret.

“Good night, Emily,” I breathe.

Her eyes flit to mine for one more lingering moment before she turns towards the door. The latch clicks behind her, and Baxter whimpers, missing her already.

“I know, boy,” I tell him. “I know exactly how you feel.”

CHAPTER 16

EMILY

The whole drive back to my apartment, I’m shaking. Smiling. Feeling nauseous. It’s this whole mess of emotions that I just don’t understand.

Parking on the street, I grab my things and hustle upstairs. The lights are on in my neighborhood, but I’m still feeling too twisted up to be thankful. I slide inside the apartment, closing the door to the world behind me, to the night that’s still painted in my mind with broad, Isaac-colored strokes.

I lean against the wood, steady myself. My heart flutters — a caged bird against my ribs. Why does it feel like I’ve left something behind? No, not something. Someone.

Isaac.

Our dinner, our conversation, lingers on my tongue. The taste of the food we shared, the sound of his laughter, low and resonant in the candlelit hush of his vast living room — it was intimate, unexpected, disarming.

He had been so at ease, even as the city around us descended into temporary chaos. It was… perfect. But when theconversation drifted too close to what simmered between us, I felt the walls closing in. His place suddenly felt too small, like I needed to come up for air and didn’t know which direction to head in.

I had to leave. I couldn’t tell him why. Couldn’t explain the panic that seized me, the need for air, for space, for the quiet hum of my own four walls where the only expectations I had to meet were my own.

My phone buzzes, a soft intrusion. Isaac’s name lights up the screen, and my breath catches. I can’t bring myself to pick it up. Can’t bear to read the words he’s sent after I practically fled from his place.

Instead I put the phone on the kitchen counter. Pour myself a glass of juice. Take my shoes off. Think about a shower.

Yet the text is still on my mind, and I find myself picking the phone up almost reflexively.

Thank you for the lovely evening,the message reads. It’s so simple, but it puts me into a tailspin.

I’m partly giddy, partly terrified.

This is Isaac we’re talking about. Isaac, who grew up a world away from me and has seen things I probably can’t even conceptualize. He’s rubbed elbows with the one percent, probably even met royalty.

And me? I’m Emily. Just Emily. The girl who works with dogs and thrifts all her clothes. How could this man be interested in someone like me?

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