Page 27 of The Elusive Billionaire
I’m not sure how many hits one person can take, but I think I’ve found my limit.
The bed dips silently with his weight, and then it bounces as though he’s punching the mattress.
What can I say, I’m a nosy bitch too, so I roll to my back and nearly laugh as he places pillows down the center of the bed, then punches them into submission.
“I don’t think they’re going anywhere.”
“No talking.”
“Asshole.”
He sneers, then places a final pillow barrier near our knees.
“I’m not a cuddler, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Perfect eye roll tone, if I do say so myself.
“I no longer trust your words, Monroe. You showed me who you really are, and I listened. It’s all actions from here on out.”
I don’t bother responding. Nothing I say will make him grow up and listen to me anyway. I’ll need to come up with a differentplan because we can’t go on this way, and for the sake of our friends, we will learn to coexist.
“Try being nice to him.”Clover’s words grate on my conscience.
I’m always nice. Except when he pushes every freaking button I didn’t know I had.
With great effort and a very deep breath, I say, “Thank you for retrieving me from the mud, and for…distracting me when my anxiety got the better of me.”
The blankets are tugged off my shoulder, and I sit up in time to see him holding them tightly as he rolls over. Freaking blanket hog.
“You’ve lived in southeast Georgia long enough to know better than to head so far out of town with a hurricane on the way.”
Yes, asshole. I know this. But the freaking weather app said it was still hours away.
“Regardless.” Oops, that was full of snark and sass. I try again. “Thank you. Getting up your driveway was…”Be honest with him.“I was scared—and it takes a lot to scare me. I didn’t even know how long I was out there, but I couldn’t see through the rain, and I got disoriented. It’s— I…” my throat tightens around my words.
“You’re welcome.” It’s the softest he’s spoken to me since Christmas, and it does something pitiful to my spirit. I drop my fist to my chest, feeling for a stab wound, but come up empty. “You’re just lucky I happened to be on the porch after my workout, or I never would have known you were there. Don’t take risks like that, Monroe. It would kill Madi, and she’s been through enough.”
There’s that jackass tone of his. At least it irks my anger, overpowering the stab to the heart of a moment ago.
“Good night, Greyson.”
My head sinks into the down pillow that cradles it like a loving pair of hands.
I know he won’t respond, so I allow myself to drift off.
Right before sleep takes me, I swear he whispers, “Goodnight, Monroe.”
Monroe I can handle. At least he isn’t calling me a liar anymore. Perhaps there’s hope for our coexistence after all.
CHAPTER EIGHT
GREYSON
A long,low, satisfied moan pulls me from the last lingering grips of sleep. The sun filters in through my bedroom windows, attacking my sleepy gaze, so I allow my lids to fall closed again.
A few more moments of sleep won’t kill me.
This time the moan is softer, and I realize my hand is…
I open my eyes and take in my surroundings. My lips,myfucking lips, are on sun-kissed skin that doesn’t belong to me. It takes less than a second for the events of yesterday to crash into me, and I wrench my head back.
