Billionaire's Cinderella: A Standalone Novel (A Bad Boy Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires Book 3)

by Claire Adams

  “Okay. Deal.” I extended my hand and he shook it. “You agree, though: no cheating. If you cheat, the deal goes out the window.”

  “No cheating, just pure athletic skill.”

  I nodded again. We played in earnest, still talking and chatting, but seriously competing at the same time. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to never have Zack see me again, but I certainly wanted to prove myself against him, I wanted the advantage. And it was clear that all he was interested in was another easy lay; why else would he have made the conditions for his win that he could come back to my dorm? I was going to show him that I was no easy lay—he’d already burned that bridge. Even though I was good, Zack was legitimately good as well, and each of us got ahead and then behind through the next eight holes, until we came to the last one—where we were tied.

  “Feeling the pressure, Evie?” Zack asked me.

  “Nope, I’m just trying to decide if I should delete your number from my phone completely since you won’t be calling me anymore.” I grinned as I said it; if I hadn’t deleted his phone number when we broke up in high school, or after the spectacle in the dining hall, I certainly wasn’t going to delete it now.

  “Big talk from someone who’s destined to lose.”

  Zack lined up his putt. It was a windmill obstacle—the most difficult kind. Zack had never managed to get the ball through the windmill in the first attempt when we’d been dating before, so I had a certain amount of freedom, I thought. Normally I could get through the windmill, but it took me a stroke or two to get the actual putt sunk.

  “What happens if we tie?”

  Zack shrugged. “We go back to your place, and after that you never have to speak to me again.”

  I laughed and shook my head. Zack took his shot; somehow, and I will never know how, he managed to get it through the hole in the windmill just short of being knocked aside. I groaned.

  “Oh come on, if you’re going to lose, lose gracefully,” Zack said, leaning in and giving me a quick kiss on the lips. I tingled all over and told myself firmly that it was not the time to get all distracted by Zack’s charms. It was time to hope against hope that he would flub the shot into the hole and that I might have some chance at winning the game yet.

  Of course, he shot from the other side of the windmill and managed to get his shot in two strokes. I took a deep breath. If I timed it just right, and got just the right speed, I could possibly—maybe—manage to get a hole in one. I put my ball on the tee and watched the windmill for a moment. The windmill holes were always tricky; the speed of the windmill’s arms was just slow enough to be deceptive, and just fast enough to swoop down on a ball right as it got to the hole in the windmill itself. Zack was standing behind me and I could feel his presence, feel him watching me intently to see if I would actually make it. I took another deep breath and swung.

  The ball canted on its way towards the windmill, and it hit the corner of the hole—to be knocked aside by one of the arms. “Son of a bitch!” I gripped the club hard and wanted to throw it down, not because I wanted to cut Zack out of my life, but because I hated to lose. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t win, but I could, at least—as Zack said—lose gracefully. I took two more strokes to get the ball through the windmill, and then another stroke to get it into the final hole. Zack somehow managed not to gloat; I could see it hovering in the back of his eyes, the urge to flaunt his victory over me.

  “Want to grab another beer and watch the batting cages before we go back?” he asked.

  It would give me a little bit of time to get over it, at least. I agreed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “So, this is the living room,” I said, throwing myself onto the comfortable old couch as we came into the dorm room.

  Zack looked around and smiled faintly at the pictures that Jess and I had plastered on the walls. We technically had two other roommates, but they were never around; they practically lived with their boyfriends off campus.

  “Did you bring in your own furniture?”

  I shook my head. Jess and I had agreed in the first week that while the couch was comfortable, it was hideous; we spent the first weekend of classes shopping around for a good cover. Zack threw himself down next to me and put his arm over the back of the couch, dropping his hand on my shoulder casually. I started to move away, but made myself stay; he wasn’t trying anything too aggressive.

  We started talking; it felt awkward—I didn’t know what to talk to Zack about that wouldn’t steer us in the direction of the drama surrounding our reunion. He asked about the newspaper, and how I’d managed to get signed on and I told him about Professor Grant and the assignment. He laughed as I rehashed the first meeting I’d been to, mimicking some of the more contentious people on the newspaper staff. I asked him tentatively about the frat—what they did when they weren’t partying, trying to figure out just what kind of person Zack had become as a college student. He seemed the same as I remembered him in high school, but different at the same time, and it was impossible for me to figure out whether or not I actually liked him.

  “Hey! Can you guys be quiet out here? Alex has an early class.” Jess’ voice came from the direction of her room and I shook my head. Another guy? I wondered if Jess had some kind of secret pact with herself to sleep with someone in every major the college offered. Zack raised an eyebrow.

  “I have no idea who that is,” I whispered. “But I assume he was decent if she’s letting him sleep here.”

  Zack grinned. “You ever bring a guy up to your room before?” he whispered back.

  I shook my head. “You’re…you’re my first in that, too.” My cheeks burned with a blush and I looked down at my lap as I started picking at imaginary lint on my skirt.

  “That’s definitely an honor—though I don’t think I’ll share it with anyone.”

  I looked up, confused; why would he share it with anyone, anyway? Zack took advantage of my shock to lean in. He brushed his lips against mine lightly—feather-soft at first. I was too shocked to react, though I shouldn’t have been; I found myself kissing back for a moment, letting Zack press up against me, allowing him to start to guide me onto my back on the couch. It was when his hand started to trail up from my knee that I came to my senses. I pulled back and broke the kiss, sitting up quickly and then standing.

  “What’s wrong?” Zack barely kept his voice to a whisper and I looked anxiously in the direction of Jess’ room.

  “I didn’t agree to that.”

  Zack’s look of concern dissolved into confusion and he stared at me. “What do you mean?”

  I shook my head, smoothing my skirt against my legs. My heart was pounding, my body was tingling all over from nothing more than the kiss. I was already starting to get turned on, and my cheeks were burning. I couldn’t let him stay. I couldn’t be in the same room as him for any longer. I’d give in and then it would be the same mess all over again.

  “I’m not interested in being your fuck buddy,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I swallowed, realizing that I had broken a whisper. “I’m not…that’s not the kind of person I am.” I managed to keep my voice low.

  “You agreed. You said I could come back to your place if I won, and I won.” Zack’s confusion was turning into frustration, his brow wrinkling as he looked at me—almost looking hurt. I set my jaw.

  “I agreed to let you come back to my place. I never agreed to have sex with you. You’re right here. You’re in my dorm. That’s the letter of the agreement.” Zack frowned and started to stand up, before settling back on the couch.

  “That’s kind of mean, Evie,” he said. “You know what it means to go back to someone’s place.”

  I shook my head. “No. I said you could come back to my place. I didn’t say anything about kissing or sex or anything else.”

  Zack pressed his lips together and I could see he was getting frustrated. If he started yelling at me, it would wake Jess up for sure, and I at least could count on her—and maybe Alex, whoever he was�
�to get rid of Zack. I almost wanted Zack to act like an asshole; it would make it easier to get over him.

  Instead, he took a deep breath and stood. He started towards the door to the room and stopped as he would have passed me. He leaned in and I thought he was going to try and convince me; instead he kissed me on the cheek quickly and then left. I sighed, leaning against the wall and closing my eyes. I wasn’t sure if I was more relieved or frustrated. I took a deep breath and locked the dorm room door, going to my bedroom and throwing myself in bed without even bothering to take off my clothes. I’d figure out what I thought about it in the morning.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The next day, I finished off my article for the newspaper as soon as I got up; it didn’t help my jumbled-up feelings about Zack that I had to finish transcribing the interview with him. I listened to the tape again to make sure I hadn’t made any errors and the sound of his voice sent hot and cold tingles through me. It was nothing, I told myself. Zack just wanted to make me go on a date with him so he could get in my pants again, though why he was so determined when there were plenty of girls on campus who would be happy to oblige, I had no idea. I proofread my article twice and saved it on a jump drive along with printing it out; that was the standard practice with the newspaper and I could understand why; they wanted to make sure they had a hard copy in case something happened to the digital version. It was easier to re-type something than it was to totally re-compose it.

  Before I went to my first class, I went into the student union and found Lisa’s office on the other side of the meeting room for the campus newspaper.

  “You’re the first in!” she told me cheerfully, taking the jump drive and the paper from me. She skimmed the printed copy, nodding a few times. “I’ll read it in detail later, but it looks like you hit all the high points.”

  Before I could go, someone else rushed in through the door to turn in their assignment, on their way to class. I grinned to myself; even if it wasn’t perfect—I had no delusions that I would get it exactly right the first time out—there was some accomplishment in being the first person to turn in a piece for the edition.

  I went to the dining hall and grabbed a quick breakfast—cereal and juice—and managed to make myself a smoothie to take with me to class. I had a long stretch from the morning to lunch; the first week of classes I’d had to deal with a rumbling, roiling stomach halfway through my second class of the day because I couldn’t eat much early in the morning, but right around 10 I was starving. I managed to take notes, but the entire time I was in class I kept getting distracted by thoughts of Zack. The date had been genuinely fun; while I kind of hated the way he’d gone about convincing me to go out with him, it had been nice—if a little weird—to relive our high school relationship that way.

  If he had just wanted to get into my pants, why would he have gone to so much trouble? But he had clearly been interested in getting me in bed; he’d convinced me to make the wager and had almost insisted on it when I reneged on the spirit of the agreement. I was conflicted. I still hadn’t gotten down to the decision of whether Zack was the same he’d always been or if he’d changed into some gross type of guy who just slept around and didn’t care about anyone since becoming a frat boy. I had to clear my head. I’d just have to tell Zack no the next time he asked me out. I couldn’t afford to get distracted with midterms coming and the need to keep my grades up to make my scholarships—with the added work of writing for the campus newspaper. I had to keep myself free of all distractions.

  Despite the smoothie, my stomach was rumbling when I went to the dining hall for lunch. I got in line and tried to decide which of the slightly unappealing lunch selections was the least unappealing. I knew from experience that the least visually-appealing selections tended to taste better, but the ugliness of some of the entrees made it hard to believe. I decided on the eggplant parmesan, a salad, and some fruit, reasoning that if I needed to I could get back in line. I tried to steer my thoughts towards the rest of the classes I had for the day; I really had to pay attention in math and American History. Stats was kicking my ass in spite of Jess’ tutoring, and I had to keep up or I’d be hopeless.

  I went through the entryway and into the seating area; the first thing my gaze fell on was Zack, sitting with some of his teammates—most of them members of his same frat—and a bunch of girls. I only had to look for a moment to realize the girls were all flirting with him, trying to get his attention. I clenched my teeth. I didn’t want anything to do with Zack. He could flirt with as many girls as he wanted to. I certainly wasn’t going to stand around long enough for him to possibly see me. I quickly turned away and went blindly into the tangled mass of people at tables. I spotted Jess with some of our friends from another class and sat down, trying my best to be as unobtrusive as possible.

  In spite of my best efforts, I couldn’t help but notice that the girls at Zack’s table had spotted me. One of them asked something I couldn’t quite hear—but the tone of her voice made it clear she was laughing. They all started looking at me and laughing, and I felt my cheeks getting hotter and hotter.

  “Just ignore them,” Jess suggested, seeing what I was seeing. “They’re stupid bitches, anyway. Ignore it.”

  I couldn’t. They were clearly talking about me—what they were saying I couldn’t tell, but it had to be hilarious to them. I could only assume it was either to do with the spectacle I’d made of myself before in the dining hall, or maybe they had heard something about the situation before the interview. I tried to eat and not pay attention to it, but it was impossible.

  After a few moments, Zack turned in the direction they were pointing, and I looked away quickly—but not too soon to avoid seeing his eyes widen. Oh God, I thought, now I looked like some kind of weird hung-up freshman. I looked straight down at my plate and tried to calm myself down. I didn’t care about Zack. I would eat my lunch and go to the library, or back to my room. If Zack called me, I would ignore it. If he tried to talk to me, I’d keep walking or leave the room. I fidgeted in my seat. I finally got the nerve to look up again after a moment; just in time to see Zack stand up from the table he was sitting at. My heart was pounding in my chest. No, I thought. Don’t let him come over here. Don’t let him do that. I chewed on my bottom lip.

  The rest of his friends were still laughing and joking, and I swallowed down the lump of humiliation that was growing in my throat. I’d just leave, I thought. If I wasn’t there to be made fun of, they’d have to stop. But then if I ran away, they’d just keep doing it. I knew from first-hand experience that bullies would keep picking on you if you gave them what they wanted, and what the girls at Zack’s table wanted was clearly to make me uncomfortable. I thought of my mom—what she would say.

  “Sweetie, if ignoring them won’t work, you might as well make them realize that if they mess with you they’ll pay a price for it.”

  I thought about it. Should I go over there and confront the girls?

  Before I could make up my mind, Zack climbed onto the chair he had been sitting in, and then onto the table. The girls—and even his teammates—were just as surprised as I was. Jess gasped and asked me in a whisper what the hell was going on. I had no idea at all; I shook my head numbly. Zack looked around the room as everyone went quiet, stunned at the spectacle of the star quarterback standing on top of a table in the middle of the dining hall. Zack looked down at his team mates, and then at the girls. He glanced at me again and grinned slightly.

  “Attention everybody!” he called out—not quite shouting, but definitely making himself heard throughout the dining area. “Can I have everyone’s attention?” I didn’t know how he could possibly have more attention—everyone was looking at him, including the staff. Zack grinned again. “I want everyone here to know something very important.” I shook my head, shocked beyond anything I could ever imagine. What was he doing? “I want everyone to know that I am stupidly, head-over-heels hung up on Evelyn Jackson. She’s the only girl for me. No one else could
ever compare with her.”

  Blood flooded into my face. I heard a clattering noise and looked down to see my fork tumbled onto the table. I felt hot and cold all at once as Zack pointed to me; every eye in the dining hall was turned on me. I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest, my stomach feeling like it was shooting up into my throat.

  It was a joke. It had to be. Zack was getting his revenge on me for dumping the plate of food on him. I was seething. After a moment of stunned silence everyone in the dining hall began to laugh—a few people at first, and then everyone. I stood up without knowing what I was doing. Jess grabbed at my arm to try and stop me but I pulled away, grabbing my tray and running away from the table as fast as I could. I don’t know how I managed to keep everything on the tray, but I was moving through the dining hall, everything around me a blur, and I slammed my tray into the dish chute. I didn’t even go around to the main entrance; the thought of everyone still laughing, still thinking how ridiculous I was, sent me to the back door. I slammed it open and dashed through it, finding the cement path and running around the circumference of the dining hall until I got to the main route. My eyes were stinging, my cheeks were burning. I kept my gaze on the ground at my feet as I found my way back to the dorms by memory. I swiped my ID card once, twice, three times. Finally it pinged and the green light on the reader came on and the door unlocked. I snatched the door open.

  I didn’t even bother with waiting for the ancient elevator to get to the ground floor. I ran through the hall to the stairs and yanked the door open. I ran up the stairs, ignoring the stitch in my side and the ache in my legs as I went past the second floor, third, fourth, all the way to the fifth. The stairs were on the opposite side of the hall from my room. I walked through the hallway, barely holding myself together; someone might see me. They might not already know about what happened in the dining hall. The last thing I was willing to do was to give people another reason to find out about what Zack had done. I dug my keys out of my pocket and fumbled with them, dropping them before I managed to unlock the door.