Scoring the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 3)

by Max Monroe

  “What about you?”

  My brow furrowed. “What do you mean? What about me?”

  “Will it take you time to give me another chance?”

  I sat back in my chair, shocked by his question.

  “I want another chance with you, Winnie. You are the love of my life, and I hope one day you’ll give me a second chance to prove that I really do mean that.”

  My jaw dropped to the floor. “The love of your life?” I nearly choked on the words as they slid across my tongue.

  “Yes, the love of my life,” he repeated, and honestly, I just wanted to smack him.

  Hell, I guess I just wanted to smack every-fucking-body tonight.

  I really needed to get my ass home before I ended up in a New York jail cell.

  “You really have an odd way of showing that I am the love of your life,” I stated, my voice growing more irritated. “You left me by myself to care for a newborn baby, while I was still trying to get through my residency. For the first few months of Lexi’s life, you never answered my calls. You didn’t even see her for the first time until she was four months old. I honestly have a hard time believing that I am the love of your life.”

  “I was scared, Win. I was afraid and I was young and I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.”

  I shook my head. “No, you actually did know what you were doing. You wanted to focus on your career, and you didn’t want any distractions that could possibly pull you away from that. You wanted your career more than you wanted a family.”

  Completely unexpectedly, his face melted into a smile. I pushed away from the table, apparently, even my posture had aggression, and slammed my back in the chair. “What the fuck?”

  He shook his head, smile still engaged, and smacked an enthusiastic hand on the table. “Well, look at you, Winnie Winslow.”

  “What?” I asked. “What the fuck is going on here?”

  “Relax, Win,” he urged. “I’m kidding.”

  Kidding? What was this? Some kind of sick joke?

  “Kidding? God, you are some kind of asshole. She’s your daughter.”

  He turned serious then, reaching for my hand as I pushed back from the table to stand. “No, no. Jesus. I’m not kidding about Lexi. I’m moving to New York. I just accepted Head of Neuro at St. Luke’s, and I really do want to get to know her. But at your pace—her pace. I know my track record is shit, but I’m not that big of an asshole.”

  “Then what the fuck are you kidding about?” I nearly shouted.

  He smiled again. “About us. Me and you, us. I know you’d have to have a fucking tumor to consider trying anything with me more complicated than an orgasm.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Though, I’m guessing those are off the table too.”

  “Nick!”

  He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m just proud of you is all.”

  I scoffed in response. “Proud of me? You are an asshole,” I said a bit too loudly as I stood up from the table and tossed my napkin down.

  “Seven years ago, you never would have spoken to me this way. You never would have stood up to me like this.”

  “I would have. I did.”

  His eyes creased at the corners, visible pain resting behind his retinas. “You’re wrong, Win.”

  I turned to leave, and he reached out to take my hand one more time. “Sit down. Please?”

  My fists clenched and my molars nearly cracked, but I sat down and raised my brows.

  “You’re right, now. You and that fire and everything you do for our daughter.”

  I gripped the edge of the table to stop myself from doing something ridiculous like throwing my wineglass at his head. “Let’s be honest here. She’s never been our daughter. She is my daughter. I have raised her, and I will continue to raise her. I am the one who has provided for her. I have kept her safe and warm. I have loved her with everything I have. And I have always been there for her.”

  “Exactly. That’s the fire.”

  I laughed without humor and closed my eyes. “What in the hell is your point here?”

  Goddammit, one more crazy conversation with a man and I was going to scratch my own eyes out.

  His perfect teeth shone in the light as he opened his smile wide, teasing, “Maybe I am still in love with you.”

  “Nick, goddammit.”

  His fucking cheeky smile grew. “Kidding, Win. But holy hell, I can’t wait to be friends.”

  Friends with the irresponsible, nonexistent father of my child?

  God help me.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and sank into my seat like a sullen child, and he laughed again.

  “Not leaving?” he asked, and I scowled.

  Who was he to run me off, anyway? If one of us left, it would be him.

  At least… “Not before my soup.”

  There came a time in one’s life when all the details became no more than bullshit.

  Or maybe I’m the one full of shit. But to me, these little tiny nuggets of perceived wisdom feel like truth. So, yeah. Deal with it.

  How was I going to make my schedule work? Would I be able to make every single commitment? Were we actually compatible with one another? Yadda, yadda, yadda.

  See, I finally realized the ultimate answer, the master key, the solution to all my problems and heartbreak and man angst.

  I wanted Winnie, and I wanted to be the best father I could to Lex. I loved them both, and the rest of it…didn’t matter.

  I’d left the hospital dejected—completely and totally lost and seriously doubting everything about myself. My stupid casual take on life that I’d held on to for so long and the falsehood that Winnie somehow owed me something now that I’d had the great romantic epiphany.

  Oh, I’m ready now, Winnie. I’m ready to take you seriously and give you everything I can, but only now that I’ve been faced with the consequences of my selfish actions.

  The more I thought about it as I ambled through Central Park until the sky turned completely midnight, the hour growing too late for even the moon, the more disgusted with myself I became.

  Winnie Winslow didn’t owe me a goddamn thing.

  She’d given me several of the best months of my life, and I’d put more effort in with her than I ever had with anyone before. But what made a man was not the absence of mistakes, but rather, the way he handled them when he made them.

  And, apparently, I was complete shit at the whole handling thing.

  Change within a person wasn’t easy, but I was determined to try. And it was all going to start with the way I looked at things. Instead of skimming the surface, I’d delve deeper. And that wasn’t a promise to Winnie or Lexi or some third party, but to myself. I wanted to be the guy who saw things for how they really were. The guy who didn’t fly off the handle in a jealous rage and the kind of guy who listened when people spoke.

  And, as I climbed the last flight of stairs on the way up to my apartment—content to bask in my wandering so much that I’d done fourteen floors the old fashioned way—a hello from the sun now brightening the once dark sky, I knew that included the way I looked at Winnie’s time with Nick last night.

  From this newly found rational place, the truth was surprisingly clear and all boiled down to one simple statement: Winnie Winslow was no goddamn idiot.

  She wouldn’t be going out on a date with Nick, the halfway decent guy, but completely absent father to her child just because of what had happened between us. She’d said it best herself—she deserved better.

  We all did.

  And Nick wasn’t better for her or Lex.

  But I still could be. I could be better for them and better for me, and I could do all of it whether Winnie wanted to take a chance on me romantically again or not.

  This wasn’t a world of absolutes, all or nothings.

  And in the face of being told I couldn’t have it all, I still knew I didn’t want nothing.

  Nothing in this life was black and white.
It was very much gray, and I hoped to God I could find the shade that Winnie would approve.

  “It’s about fucking time you showed up,” Remy greeted, his back to the wall and ass to the floor right beside the door to my apartment and sleep wrinkling even the casual cotton of his clothes.

  Jesus Christ. What was he doing here?

  “What the fuck?” I asked without mentioning that he’d startled me. Remy Winslow never needed new ammunition to razz anyone. He found enough all on his own.

  “I’ve been here all night.” He stood up with a tight smirk covering his lips and brushed his hands down the tops of his thighs on a sigh, as if he was disgusted by the pristine conditions of my apartment building. “Might want to think about letting your landlord know the cleaning service ain’t up to snuff here.”

  See what I mean?

  I wasn’t one to boast about my style of living, but I sure as shit didn’t own an apartment over a fucking deli in Jersey.

  “You’ve been here all night?” I questioned, more than confused by the unexpected visit from the very last person on this planet who wanted to hang out with me.

  “Did I fucking stutter? I’ve been here all night waiting for you.”

  I couldn’t stop the surprise from suffusing my features. Especially since he’d been the one to take Lexi home.

  “Where’s Lexi?”

  “At home with Winnie. Some of us don’t stay out all night.”

  Given where she’d gone when she left the hospital, I had to admit, that was a relief.

  “And if you were out fucking some other woman, let me just tell you right now, I don’t want to know.”

  I rolled my eyes and ran a hand through my hair. “I was just walking around Central Park.”

  “Strange place to fuck a woman,” Jude offered as he rounded the corner of the hall that ran perpendicular to my door and down to more apartments.

  “You’re here too?” I asked, as the other two stooges rounded the same corner with smiles of their own.

  “I hope you had Mace,” Ty remarked, but Flynn just smirked.

  “What are all of you doing here?” I asked, pushing past them and unlocking my door. With a splayed hand, I held it open for all of them and watched as they filed inside in front of me.

  “Holy shit!” Jude yelled from the front.

  Everything happened quickly then, the yelp and the sharp cry of pain followed by Thatch’s not-sorry-at-all apology.

  “Whoops,” he said through a laugh. “Sorry, man.”

  I shoved through the crowd just as a sleepy Kline sat up on my couch and put his feet to the floor.

  “Jesus Christ,” I remarked. “Did I not get the invitation to the goddamn party at my own apartment?”

  Thatch smiled as Jude climbed slowly to his feet. He looked like he was in pain—and yeah, I smiled a little at that.

  “What the fuck?” Remy questioned, glancing back and forth between Kline and Thatch. “You guys have been here all night? Why didn’t you answer the goddamn door?”

  “Kline had an emergency key,” Thatch explained and then looked at Remy with a knowing smirk. “And I don’t answer the door when it’s not my fucking place.”

  “A key that will soon be revoked,” I replied as I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Hey, all I did was break in and sleep on your couch,” Kline said in defense of himself.

  The room was completely full of people—for some unknown reason—and yet no one said a word until I prompted them. “Okay, guys. What the hell are you doing here?”

  Of course, then they all spoke at once.

  This was why we needed smart women like Winnie, Georgia, and Cassie around. Christ, I was sure some men functioned on their own, but they weren’t in this group.

  “Guys!” I yelled over the white noise. And when that didn’t work, one sharp whistle did the trick.

  “Everyone shut up.” All six of them smirked at me.

  “Remy,” I said, directing only him to answer. “What are the four of you doing here?”

  “We came to make sure you knew Winnie didn’t go on a date with Nick.”

  “Nick?” Thatch bellowed, and then lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper when I glared at him. “Lexi’s father, Nick? That Nick?”

  “That Nick,” Flynn confirmed.

  “Good old Nick Raines,” Jude said with an evil smile.

  “Everyone stop saying Nick,” I ordered, rubbing at the tense skin between my eyes.

  Kline crossed his arms and put one fist to his chin, smiling at the ground. There was nothing he loved more than bearing witness to a complete shit show, courtesy of his friends.

  “I know she didn’t go on a date with him.”

  “You do?” Remy asked.

  I nodded and shrugged. “Your sister is not an idiot.”

  “Damn straight,” Ty agreed, and I almost laughed.

  “Not that the four of you are a reflection of her,” I went on, and they all groaned and chuckled.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Remy grumbled.

  “Look, I’m aware of what’s really going on,” I admitted.

  Remy eyed me with a knowing smile. “What’s really going on, Wes?”

  “Well, I know Winnie wasn’t on a date with Nick.”

  “And?” Thatch chimed in.

  I stared out toward the floor-to-ceiling windows of my apartment and noted the pinks and oranges and purples of the sun making its debut. A smile I couldn’t deny crested my lips as my gaze moved back to the group of misfits in my living room, and I found myself saying the easiest, most natural words that had ever left my lips. “And, most importantly, I love her.”

  “Fuckin’ right. Cassie owes me fifty bucks and a blow job.” Thatch’s smile was big enough to light up the whole goddamn city. “Thanks a lot, buddy,” he said to me. “I owe you one.”

  My face scrunched up in incredulity. “Uh…glad my mess of a love life could help get your dick sucked. I honestly couldn’t be happier right now,” I commented in a voice that was anything but happy.

  But Thatch acted oblivious, flashing his signature, annoying as hell wink in my direction. “Me too, Whitney. Me motherfucking too.”

  Jesus. Once I found a way to get my Win-Win, I sure as fuck needed to be on the lookout for new friends. Preferably ones who didn’t enjoy breaking and entering and anteing blow jobs on my love life.

  “So…” Kline finally spoke—directly to me. Everyone listened. Well, everyone besides Thatch, who already had his phone pulled out of his pocket and was probably texting his wife to schedule his winning fellatio—and check on the baby.

  Christ, I’d almost forgotten. Thatch had just had a baby. What in the fuck was he doing here?

  “Wait a second,” I told Kline before turning to Thatch. “What are you doing here? You just had a baby!”

  Thatch shrugged, but I could tell it was forced. That big fucker didn’t want to be here any more than I’d expected him to be. “She kicked me out. Accused me of hogging the baby and mothering her too much or some shit.” He looked to his watch. “She said I could come back a couple of hours from now.”

  “Congratulations and shit,” Remy told Thatch, and I almost laughed. “But can we get back to the reason my ass is fucking numb?”

  Thatch pretended to look sympathetic. “Hemorrhoids?”

  Thankfully, most of us were highly trained in ignoring him.

  “What are you going to do about it?” Kline asked me. “What are you going to do to clean up the mess?”

  I took a deep breath and smiled. “I have a plan.”

  Like it was premeditated, all six waiting faces smiled in unison.

  Thatch rubbed his hands together and got that familiar prankster look in his eye.

  I pointed directly at him. “Not that kind of plan.”

  He smirked. “Doesn’t matter. Whatever it is. Count me in.”

  And the rest of the group responded with nods and me toos.

  It looked like Winnie Winslow had bet
ter prepare herself.

  “Good. Now get the fuck out.”

  Tonight, my little Lexi would be Betsy Ross in her school’s spring performance. We had been practicing her three tiny lines for what felt like the past month, and I honestly had no idea how this was going to go. A child like Lexi wasn’t exactly known for doing well in overwhelming social situations, but she had been determined to learn her part with nothing less than the motivation of a Broadway star. And I couldn’t deny she looked adorable in her colonial red, white, and blue dress and big, poufy white wig.

  No matter what, I was and would be proud of her.

  Proud of her for always trying her hardest. Proud of her for trying to overcome her tendencies toward social anxiety. And proud that she was my daughter.

  I sat down in one of the metal chairs in the auditorium and thumbed through the program. My mother, brothers, and Nick weren’t able to make it, but I’d promised I’d send them a video of her performance.

  Yes, I’d even promised Nick I’d send him a video. We were slowly trying to find a comfortable medium where he was more involved in his daughter’s life.

  Lexi’s teacher got on stage and announced that the performance would start in ten minutes and instructed everyone to take their seats.

  “Excuse me…excuse me…sorry…” A deep voice filled my ears, and I glanced up to find Thatch attempting to shuffle through the row, his enormous thighs and ass skimming the faces of each person he passed, and heading straight toward me. Literally, a bull in a china shop, his large frame knocked into everyone and everything despite how gingerly he attempted to move. Interestingly enough, the women he bumped didn’t look put out at all.

  I tilted my head to the side in confusion. What was Thatch doing here?

  I glanced around the room to see if anyone else was in attendance, but I found that none of the gang was anywhere in sight. He plopped down beside me with a giant, friendly grin, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to just randomly show up at my daughter’s school performance, by himself.

  “Hey, Win.”

  “Uh…hey?” I responded in confusion. “Not gonna lie, it’s a little bit of a surprise to see you here.”