Page 13 of Milk For The Billionaire's Little

When he woke, he didn’t mention the refund. Not with words, anyway.

Instead, he gave me a folded-up piece of paper with a drawing on it—us at the sink, his shirt drenched, me in my mask, reaching for a towel. It was lopsided and messy, clearly not drawn by a professional artist, but it made me smile so big my jaw was probably going to hurt from it. His little scribbles told me more than a thank-you ever could.

I didn’t want him to leave.

A few times, I almost offered to order us food, maybe curl up and watch something together. But I didn’t. It was better not to blur things. Right?

“Hey,” he had said, blinking up at me, just coming out of his dozy haze. “Is this really your place?”

I nodded, caught off guard by the question.

“I’m so sorry,” he added quickly.

So much for not being a gold digger.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he blurted out. “I just feel bad. This place is sonice,and I dragged you to that horrible motel.”

I lived my life going with my gut, and the second he said something I could connect to my biggest fear, what did I do?I jumped to the conclusion he was trying to use me. I was an asshole.

“I didn’t mind the motel.” I’d always have fond memories there. Not that it was a place I wanted to go back to anytime soon.

He looked up at me shyly. “Really?”

I nodded. “Really. But maybe next time, we do something a little different.”

I swallowed,

“I was thinking… maybe next time we go on a date.”

The words hung in the air like a dare. I was usually confident…alwaysconfident, but saying that made my voice falter. The uncertainty caught me off guard.

He reached up to my jaw, his fingers brushing softly along the edge of my chin. “Let me guess,” he said with a smirk. “A masquerade ball?”

I barked a surprised laugh. “Actually… yeah.”

His eyes widened and then fell. “I don’t have anything fancy to wear.”

“It doesn’t need to be fancy,” I assured him. The event didn’t even exist yet. I could make it anything I wanted it to be. “And I have an extra mask at home I can send you.” Or rather, I was going to buy him one.

“You do?”

“I do,” I confirmed. “I’ll send you the details.”

He didn’t stay much longer. When he left, he gave me a big hug and hesitantly walked away.

I should have left too, but if I was going to keep up the illusion that this place was my main residence, I needed to wait. The dishonesty of it filled me with unease. I was going to need to tell him soon or let him go for real. This wasn’t fair to either of us.

Once I was sure he was gone, I shut the door and pulled out my phone.

“Hey, Boss,” Seth said when he answered. “What’s up?”

“You’re being very informal.” I didn’t mind, but I always razzed him when he was like this.

“And you didn’t call me on the work phone.”

“Fair,” I said, laughing. “Listen… how soon do you think you can set up a masquerade ball?”

There was a long pause. “Excuse me?”

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