“I have friends in high places,” she replies, tapping the end of her nose.
I laugh and turn back to my computer, working the numbers out in my head as I immerse myself in the spreadsheet. I don’t notice she’s come up behind me until she places the box of Chinese food back down beside the keyboard.
“What are you doing?” she asks curiously.
“Clearly not getting anything done with you around distracting me,” I reply, pulling her down into my lap.
She wraps an arm around my shoulders like it’s an everyday occurrence and leans in to look at the computer screen. “Accounts? I thought you were a builder?”
“I’ll have you know that I’m more than just a builder.” I say “builder” in my best British accent and she snorts out a laugh. “I actually take care of all the invoices, outgoings and incomings as well as getting my hands dirty.”
My thumb absentmindedly rubs small circles into the patch of skin above her hip and it feels like the most natural thing in the world having her sitting on my knee and talking about work. And shit if that doesn’t make my palms start sweating again.
She studies me. “So... you’re an accountant?”
“You could say that.”
“Hmm,” she mumbles, lifting up and walking over to my sofa again, turning on the TV like she lives here.
I keep watching her flip through the channels like a lovesick puppy for I don’t know how long, mesmerized by her toned legs resting on my coffee table. I shake myself out of my trance and turn back to the computer, trying my best to concentrate on getting this work done or Connor will never leave the business in my hands again.
I yawn and stretch my limbs out after an hour and look over at the sofa, forgetting that Billie was even here because she’s been so quiet, and now I know why. She’s now horizontal and softly snoring, cuddling one of the cushions. I tiptoe over to her and admire the soft features of her face, noting how relaxed she looks. She only ever truly relaxes when you get a real laugh out of her, and that isn’t often.
I’m having an internal battle with myself. I should wake her up and tell her it’s late, but something’s stopping me, something that’s telling me to carry her into my room and let her sleep. So I do just that.
I scoop her small but strong body into my arms and slide the bookcase along with my hip to get into the hallway where my bedroom is.
My heart starts to pound and I have the urge to turn around and take her back to her apartment, but I don’t. I slide her into my king-sized bed and she moans and pulls the covers up around her neck with a small smile on her face.
I stand watch for a few more minutes before deciding I’m being creepy and make my way back out to finish off crunching these numbers. Only a few more to go, I think to myself.
I grab a beer and heat up the rest of my Chinese before leaning back in my office chair, thinking only about the sexy blond that’s lying in my bed right now. Fuck! I’m trying to be a gentleman, but this is a bet after all. One I’m sure that she’s going to lose… or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
How did she get in my apartment?
I see her keys laying on my coffee table and pick them up, searching each one. I spot the familiar key that I’m looking for and smirk. Gotcha. She took my master key and I know exactly what I’m going to do with it.
I should be doing the accounts but it can wait a couple of hours, this is the perfect chance to carry out my revenge.
I prop open my apartment door and make my way to Billie’s, carrying the many rolls of foil with me I had stashed in the pantry, waiting for when I was ready, and prop open her door so I can keep walking back and forth with the rolls.
I take a look around and decide to start on the bigger items and wrap each sofa cushion in foil before wrapping the base, placing the cushions back on and then turning my sights onto her coffee table.
It took me five hours and forty-seven rolls to wrap up her whole apartment. Everything but her underwear is wrapped individually in foil, I thought looking in her underwear drawer was going a little bit too far. I can’t wait to see her reaction, she’s going to blow a fuse. That can wait though, now I need sleep.
It’s nearing four in the morning and against my better judgement, I saunter into my room, fisting my t-shirt behind my neck and pulling it up and over my head. I climb under the covers behind her, gently caressing her shoulder. She stirs and turns around to face me, but she stays asleep. We lie there, her in a blissful state of sleep, and me with a raging hard-on trying to stop myself from touching her any further than I already am.
Well this is a first.
I groan and throw my arm over my eyes to shield them from the light streaming in the floor-length windows. I must’ve forgotten to close my blinds last night. Wait. Floor-length windows?
Please, please don’t say I did it. I didn’t give in to the manwhore!
I gently pull my arm away from my eyes and cringe looking at the half-naked body beside me.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Was I drunk? No, I don’t think I was, but why is he half naked beside me in HIS bed?
HOLY SHIT! Is that really the time? I’m going to be late for work!
I throw myself out of the bed but fall ungracefully with a crash as my leg gets caught up in the duvet. “Fucking hell!”
Mac jumps out of bed at the noise, looking dazed with marks down his face. “Huh? What’s happening?”
His eyes widen as he sees me lying on the floor and he looks back at the bed looking confused himself. Snapping out of staring at his magnificent pecs, I stand up—albeit a bit wobbly—and glare at him.
“Why the frig am I in your bed, Mac?” I ask, not bothering to keep the agitation out of my voice.
He gets a cocky look on his face as he walks over to some drawers and pulls out some jeans. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
I huff and storm out the room. “Why don’t you have an alarm or anything? I’m going to be late for work on top of waking up in your bed.”
He follows me out, pulling on his jeans as I start up his coffee machine. “What’s the big deal? We didn’t sleep together.”
His usual man bun has fallen out so his hair hangs just to the top of his ripped shoulders in loose waves and I can’t help it as my eyes travel down his uncovered torso to the top of his low-slung jeans. I blush as he catches me looking and smirks at me. I tut and turn around, pouring myself a cup of coffee.
“I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you.”
I walk over to his front door and I hear him laughing as I march down the hallway to my own apartment. Arrogant arsehole.
I realise I left my keys at his and stomp back, pounding on the door. He opens it, sipping on a cup of coffee and steps out of the way when I push past him.
“By all means, come on in.”
“I don’t have time for this, Mac. Where are my keys?”
He holds them up between his fingers and I scoff, grabbing them and slamming the door behind me on his laughter.
I unlock my door and open it to a sea of silver. I’m not shitting you. Every surface, nook and cranny is wrapped in aluminium foil. He’s turned my apartment into a fucking spaceship. I’d tear him a new one right now but I’m already going to be late, so I stomp down the hallway to my bedroom.
“What the…” I look around the room, he’s even done in here. When the fuck did he have time to do this?
Last night, that’s why he didn’t wake me up. Fucker!
I start unravelling my drawers where I know things are, grabbing shorts, a sports bra, and a top. I pull out some knickers and coincidentally, it’s the only thing he hasn’t touched. I scramble to put them on and brush my teeth at the same time, scraping my hair back into a ponytail after they’re done.
I run back into my room, growling at the sight of the silver that surrounds me. He’s irritated me beyond belief, but it’s not better than my prank the other day. I’m going to show him how it’s really done.
I tap my red pen on the pile of papers in front of me as I read them over. Most of these kids may not be physically adept, but they’re smart. I need to start challenging them more next year.
My mobile pings and I reach over for it, checking the message that Mac just sent me.
Mac: Has the dragon gone back to its cave yet?
Billie: The dragon will burn all your important parts if you’re not careful…
Mac: LOL I think I’d like to keep them. So… can I join you on your trip to the moon?
Billie: Fuck off.
Mac: No, seriously, I had no idea you were planning one.
Billie: You’re a dick, it took me ten minutes to find my trainers.
Mac: How about I take you out tonight to make up for it?
Billie: No.
Mac: You know you want to.
He’s wrong, I don’t want to. The more I’m around him, the more I lose control of what I came to America for. Take last night for instance, I was flipping through my TV channels and I was bored, I can usually entertain myself but I found myself wondering what he was up to. The next thing I knew I was on his sofa, eating his Chinese, and watching a film. I need a way to douse the flame that’s growing inside me, so staying away from him for now seems like the best option. Plus, I have a prank to plan.
Billie: I have plans tonight.
I don’t get a message back straight away and being satisfied I’ve thrown off his attempts, I pick up my pen and start marking the papers again. I’m engrossed when there’s a knock on my office door.
“Come in.” I roll my eyes at the sight of Mac coming through the door. “I’m trying to work, Mac. Do you not hound me enough at home?”
He raises a brow as he sits on the corner of my desk. “I think you’ll find you were the one who came to my apartment last night.”
“Like I said, I’m trying to work. What do you want?”
He picks up the photo in front of me and smiles. “This your mom and dad?” I find myself smiling genuinely at the thought of my parents and nod. “You look like your mom, she’s beautiful.”
I clear my throat. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that, everyone always says I look like my dad.”
He takes one more look at the photo then places it back on the desk, looking into my eyes. “You have your dad’s eyes, but everything else is the softness of your mom.” He stares intently at me before his cheeky grin returns and he taps twice on my desk. “What have you got planned for tonight?”
Shit! I should’ve thought of something to do before telling him I had plans. “None of your business,” I say, looking down at the papers in front of me.
He chuckles. “Billie, if you want to call off the bet, just say so. There’s no shame in losing.”
When I look up at him, he winks and I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not losing this bet, Mac. In fact, I’m probably as far away from losing the bet as I can be, I have no investment in whatever is going on here.” I gesture between the two of us. “So, I’ll go out with you tonight to prove it, even though I have an apartment that needs… unwrapping.”
If there’s one thing I hate more than losing, it’s showing my true feelings. He has no chance of winning this.
His head falls back as he laughs and I admire his strong jawline, he must’ve trimmed his growing beard right down. He settles down a little and jumps off my desk, placing a kiss on my forehead before leaning close to my ear. “Looking forward to it, B. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
My head bobs along to Black Betty by RAM JAM blasting out of the speakers that are dotted around my apartment as I take a sip of my beer. I walk down the hallway to my room and wrap my hand around the leather-coated closet doors, peering in at my line of shirts. I want her mouth to drop to the floor when she sees me. I want to dress to impress.
I sent her a message an hour ago, telling her to put on something nice because we’re not just going to the Chinese buffet up the block. Tonight I’ve pulled out all the stops, thinking this will finally get me on the right track to what I want.
I could see the reluctance in her eyes today, and if I hadn’t have turned up at her office, she wouldn’t be coming out with me tonight. She’s been throwing hot and cold vibes and I’m starting to feel like I have whiplash on top of my own wishy-washy feelings.
I get the lust, she’s hot, but this feels like something more. That more has me wanting to run for the hills, but it equally has me wanting to hold onto the feelings I’ve never allowed myself to have before. I’ll wine and dine her tonight and show her what she’s missing out on if she were to just let herself go.
I reach for a crisp, navy blue shirt, gray dress pants, and brown dress shoes. I get changed and thread my Armani cufflinks through the holes in my sleeves and smooth my hair back into a bun as I look into the full-length mirror. I stand back and check every inch of me, making sure that I look good. Yeah, I’d fuck me.
I spray cologne sparingly on my neck and grab my keys, swigging the rest of my beer down before walking out of the door. On the way to Billie’s apartment, I take a moment to remind myself that tonight is about showing her the real me, the one I don’t show anybody else. Purely to win the bet, of course.
Instead of walking in like I normally do, I stop and knock three times before leaning against the doorframe with one hand in my pocket.
“Two minutes,” she shouts through the door, and I hear her rustling about inside.
I laugh. “The car will be here in five, hurry up.”
“I can’t find my other shoe, no thanks to you!” she huffs out.
I sigh and pull my keys out, looking for the master key. When I don’t find it, I chuckle, forgetting that I put it back on her keychain so she wouldn’t suspect anything if she’d looked at it first. “Billie? Can I have my master key back?”
I hear footsteps running toward me and the door opens a fraction before I hear the pitter patter of her feet retreating back into her apartment. “Nope. You seem to be foil happy so I think I’ll hold onto it.”
I laugh and push through the now open door, and walk into her apartment, locating her keys and shaking my head with a smile as I take off the master key and pocket it. She must be in her bedroom because she’s not in the living area, so I walk down the hallway, peering into the first room I come to.
She’s smoothing down her ridiculously tight, black halter neck dress and it stops me in my tracks. I’ve never seen her dressed like this. Her dress screams rip me off and her tall black shoes make her toned legs go on for miles. Her hair is wrapped up on the side of her neck with sweeping bangs and those luscious lips of hers are a blood red that contrasts with her bright blond hair.
She twists her hands nervously. “Well… don’t just stand there staring, say something.”
“You found your shoe,” I say like a complete idiot, pointing at her shoes.
She rolls her eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. Come on then, let’s go.”
I grab her arm as she walks past me and push her up against the doorframe. “You look incredible, Billie.”
She smiles slowly up at me. “Don’t scrub up so bad yourself, now are you going to tell me where you’re taking me, considering I just spent an hour looking for a damn outfit?”
“No,” I retort, shooting her a wink as I take a step back and wave her ahead of me and out of her apartment.
I can tell she’s about to protest but decides against it, sucking in a deep breath and pressing the button for the elevator. I open the apartment building door for her on the way out and point her toward the black town car waiting for us at the curb.
She looks at me with a cocked brow and I nudge her forward. “It’s ours for the night.”
When we’re on the way to the restaurant I picked out in the city, she turns to me. “I thought you were a builder or an accountant builder?”
“I am,” I say nodding with a slight smirk.
She waves her arms about. “Well I know for a fact that this costs a prett
y penny, you didn’t have to do this for me.”
I just give her a small smirk but don’t say anything else; she’ll find out eventually.
We arrive outside the restaurant and I run around and open her door for her.
“Err, thanks,” she stammers out awkwardly.
Has no one ever held a door open for her before? She acts like this every time I do it.
I grab her hand and walk up the sidewalk onto the red carpet that’s laid out in front of the restaurant and leads inside. The door is opened for us and I nod at the doorman, handing him a tip behind Billie’s back so she doesn’t see.
We walk up to the hostess and she greets me immediately with a warm smile. “Mr. Jennings, your table is ready for you if you’d like to follow me.”
I nod and notice Billie looking up at me curiously, but I don’t say anything, I just wave her ahead of me.
Reaching the table, I pull out Billie’s chair and she eyes me with the same look she gives me when I open the door for her— like it’s a foreign action. I sit down myself and order a bottle of “the usual,” Nina—the hostess—knows what I mean.
As soon as Nina disappears, Billie snorts. “Wow, and there was me thinking I was getting some sort of royal treatment. Is this where you take all your dates?”
I shake my head with a serious expression on my face. “Never.”
She rolls her eyes and looks at the menu. “I don’t like being lied to.”
“Well then we don’t have a problem,” I retort back. She’s starting to irritate me a little with her wisecracks so I shut my menu, garnering her attention. “If you don’t want to enjoy this night with me, just be honest. I’d rather you were honest now instead of carrying on this bet.” She looks over my face and I realize what I’ve said sounds like I want her. I do, but she doesn’t need to know that. What’s that saying? Treat them mean to keep them keen. “If I’ve got no way of winning this then I don’t want to waste my time.”
Her face falls and I instantly feel like the biggest douche in the room. What is wrong with me? I’m not this asshole guy, I’m cocky and sure of myself because hell, look at me. And I may sleep with a lot of women, but one thing I always do is treat them with respect. Is one little bet worth compromising that?
Betting On Love Page 7
