Page 1 of Billionaire Bachelor
1
ROSALIE
If Valentine’sDay were a man, I’d punch that bastard in the nuts faster than I’d swipe left on the guy whose job is listed asHealth and Wellness Coach.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, and suddenly I’m drowning in enough protein powder to outlast Armageddon. You’d think I’d learn after the first fiasco, but apparently, my optimism knows no bounds—much like my talent for dating douchebags. Case in point. Julian, my boyfriend of two years, got down on one knee last Valentine’s and promised me forever. Too badforeveronly lasted until he got caught banging the neighbor. So instead of walking down the aisle today in a pretty white dress—gah, I want to puke just thinking about how cliché that is—I’m escaping to my family’s cabin in Tahoe.
Thank god I had the foresight to plan this trip so I could get the hell out of LA and its sea of red and pink everywhere I turned. The reminders of my failed engagement were suffocating, and I couldn’t take it for another second. Julian despises the cold, so spending what would’ve been our wedding day in a winter wonderland is sweet,sweet irony. I’m actually looking forward to having three whole days of solitude, copious amounts of wine, and not a stupid cupid in sight.
As I drive south from the airport, the scenery gradually shifts from the urban sprawl of Reno to towering pines, and as the miles tick by, I can almost feel the weight lifting off my shoulders. On the tail end of my journey, an incoming call rings through the vehicle’s Bluetooth connection. I came here to get away from civilization, but I happily accept it when I see one of my favorite people’s names on the display.
Hitting the green phone button, I say, “Miss me already, huh?”
“Bitch, I’m too busy and sleep deprived to miss you,” Sylvie replies. “You’re lucky I’m even taking the time to grace you with this conversation.”
“Well, I’m honored you decided to be so magnanimous. To what do I owe the pleasure?” I glance at the clock. “It’s been less than twelve hours since we last spoke.”
Sylvie is technically my cousin, but we’re the same age and grew up together, so we’re more like sisters. We haven’t gone more than a few days without talking to each other our entire lives.
Don’t let the sarcasm fool you—it’s our love language.
“I know reception can be spotty at the cabin, so I wanted to check in one last time before you get there. I’m also driving back from my postpartum checkup—where I got the all-clear to screw Hudson’s brains out. Go me! And I had to tell you what happened this morning.”
“What?”
“Well…you know how I told you that whenever Olivia cries my boobs leak?”
One of my favorite things about Sylvie is she rarely censors herself. What you see is what you get, and oversharing is her jam. Since she recently pushed a human out of her vagina, she’s had all sorts of gross, yet incredibly amusing, stories.
“I believe the exact words you used were, ‘My giant milk jugs turn into Niagara freaking Falls,’” I deadpan.
“Yeah,that.” She laughs. “Anyway…since my vag has been out of commission, Hud’s been spendinga lotof extra time playing with my boobs. He’s kind of obsessed with them, really, since they’re enormous right now. Not that I mind because I’ve learned nipple orgasms arenota myth, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“Lucky bitch,” I tease.
“Maybe you’ll get to experience it for yourself one day if you ever date someone who isn’t a selfish prick.”
“Harsh,” I complain.
“But not untrue,” she insists.
She’s not wrong. I haven’t had the best luck with men.
“Was there a point to this story?”
“I’m getting to that,” Sylvie huffs. “Pay attention, Rosalie. So, this morning, we were fooling around, and we were pressed for time because, you know, kids. Well, Hud wasreallygoing to town sucking on my nipples, shooting for the aforementioned nipplegasm. Anyway, right before I was about to get off—seriously, I wassofreaking close—Olivia started wailing. Since the monitor is right by our bed, my body thought it was baby breakfast time.
“Without warning, the dam broke, flooding Hudson’s mouth so fast, it flew down the wrong tube. He was coughing and gagging, and drooling, and his face was so red, I was legit concerned he wasn’t getting enough oxygen.”
I press my lips together, trying my best to contain my laughter.
“Rosa, are you listening to me?!I deep throated my husband with breastmilk!”
Aaaaand just like that, I lose it, laughing so hard I snort. Leave it to Sylvie to make me laugh on a day like this. Between a newborn and her young stepdaughter, she should be exhausted, but Syl always finds time to make me feel like less of a disaster.
“Wow. That’s quite the visual.”
“I know, right? I mean, a little leakage is totally normal when having sexy times with a nursing woman, but I never thought I could drown the poor man with my tits. I usually havesomekind ofwarning before they go into full let-down mode, and even then, it’s never beenthatpowerful before.”
