Page 53 of Flirting with My Billionaire Enemy

I look across the table and catch Ariana’s gaze. A challenging smile lights up her face. “You ready to lose?”

“I’m not afraid to win. I can sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“You think if we were married that I’d make you sleep on the couch?” Ariana teases.

My breath catches, and my heart does this funny little jump in my chest at her mention of marriage. “I would hope not.” Because I wouldn’t want to be away from her, not for one night.

“What’s this about you two getting married?”

Mom’s ears must have been extra vigilant tonight because she heard us from all the way across the living room.

“Hypothetically married,” I say. “It was a joke, Mom.” I’m afraid I’ve hurt Ariana’s feelings, but I glance over and she’s smiling.

“There’s always a root of truth to every joke,” Mom says.

I laugh. Although Ariana was the one to make the joke, I know better than to hope that she might actually want to explore something a bit more serious with me.

Mom settles at the table to watch the rest of the game. Ariana has all of Asia and Australia. It turns out she was the kind to hunker down in Australia, and it’s done well for her. I have North and South America and we’re fighting over Africa and Europe.

Mom leans over and whispers something in Ariana’s ear.

“Hey, you’re helping the enemy? I’m your own son,” I complain.

Mom and Ariana just laugh together. Not one ounce of sympathy or remorse between the two of them.

First, I lose all of Europe, and then Ariana conquers the few remaining territories I have left in Africa, effectively winning the game. I get the impression that she didn’t need my mom’s help. She would have kicked my rear either way. And for some reason, I don’t even care. She can win all she wants. Because now she’s smiling, and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world to see her so happy.

I want to put a smile on her face like this one every day for the rest of her life, and I’ll do what it takes to show her I’m tired of my bachelor days.

25

ARIANA

After Kaison’s brothers and Callie leave for the night, I head up to my room. I pull up my laptop and get a few more words in. The story is almost finished. The characters have overcome their pasts and have gotten together. The rest is just a matter of tying up some of the loose ends.

I pull up my web browser and start doing some research about the differences between self-publishing and traditional publishing. Everything Kaison has told me seems to be the general consensus about the subject. It would be nice to skip over the long process of writing letter after letter to various agents.

There’s something freeing about the idea of having my book out there so soon. For so long, I’ve put myself into this box of only allowing myself to land a traditional book deal. Like that would somehow prove my worth to myself. The truth is, I’ve already done that. My book is still far from perfect, but it’s a good story and I’m proud of it.

I head down to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. It’s a bit of a hike to get there, definitely a downside to having a huge house. If I ever buy a big place, I’m putting a mini fridge in my room with drinks and snacks in it.

The truth is, I’ve been thinking about what a life with Kaison would be like. It doesn’t mean I’m not terrified of getting my heart broken. After all the losses in my life—my parents and my grandparents—I’m so scared of losing another important person in my life. But I adore his family, and I don’t want to lose them too. Will I ever have a reason to see them again if I’m not dating Kaison? Our stay in Blue Mountain is coming to an end, and then we’ll go back to city life, the race to make it to the top at the office, the men treating me like a stupid little girl.

When I get to the kitchen, I open the fridge and pull out a bottle of water. I close the door to see Kaison standing there just inches from my face.

I scream and drop my bottle of water. And that punk! All he does is laugh.

But he does bend down to pick up my bottle. At least it hasn’t busted.

“You okay?” he asks.

“You scared the daylights out of me.”

“You up for some pumpkin pie?” He goes into the fridge after me and pulls out a foil-covered pie pan.

“Sure. I’ve already eaten three slices of pie today, but it’s been enough time that I can have another.”

He grins. “That’s the spirit.”

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