“I can’t be. He’s… I don’t think he feels the same. He’s not said anything about going public, or anything. I only ever see him at his place. We don’t go out like a regular couple. We don’t do anything.”
She pulls back to look at me. “Apart from banging each other’s brains out, I get it. Why do you think Huck was grinning like an idiot when he picked me up the other day? It’s not just his swanky coffee machines that are receiving full services.”
Despite the gnawing in my gut, I laugh. “He’s lucky to have you.”
“He is. But I’ve got a latte love for him too, you know?” She winks at me.
“Oh God.” I sink my head into my hands, leaning over the counter.
“It was probably the painted toenails that did it. Single dad porn, right there. He does cute stuff for his adorable kid. Of course you’re going to be falling in love in the wet panties that he’s given you. And despite, you know, the asshole tendencies, he’s smoking hot and rich. Every woman in the city would hit that. The men too.”
My stomach somersaults as I think of his pink glittery painted toes. Ashley’s right. That totally made my heart melt, knowing that he’s going to work, talking about billion-dollar deals with a detached coldness that makes him brilliant atwhat he does, all whilst his love for his daughter is literally painted on him beneath his suit.
You’d have to have no heart not to be affected by that.
“I didn’t exactly plan this,” I groan, looking up at the exact time Cliff pulls up in the black town car on the street outside. I frown. Sullivan told me he had a meeting across town this morning. Right after I’d moaned out my orgasm into his mouth as he’d pinned me to the mattress beneath him.
“Breathe,” Ashley instructs. “It’s too late now, it’s done.”
“Thanks for the reassurance.” I scoff.
She flicks a hand in the air. “Life’s short, Tate. If he makes you happy, then don’t overthink it. Guys are sometimes slow about the whole labeling relationships thing. It’ll all work out how it’s supposed to.”
“I believe you,” I murmur, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples.
I can’t stop picturing his eyes when he told me he wasn’t The Masked Maestro. It’s like he felt bad that he couldn’t tell me something I longed to hear. I’ve studied every YouTube video I could find in the last couple of days. Analyzing the curve of his shoulders, the width of his back. Even the angle of his head as he gives over to the music and loses himself as he plays.
And I still don’t know.
Every cell in my body tells me that was Sullivan playing that night. That his music was the one that reached into my soul and danced with it.
I want it to be him.
Ineedit to be him.
Ashley’s right.
I’m in love with Sullivan Beaufort.
The bell over the door goes.
“Or you could just ask him yourself how he’d label your relationship status?” Ashley whispers, nudging me.
I look up to find Sullivan striding in, wearing the same navy-blue tie with gold flecks I twirled around my hand while kissing him this morning.
His expression is his usual business-like mask of indifference.
“I thought you had a meeting across town?” I say.
“I do. I just needed this.” He rounds the counter and pulls me into his arms, gifting me with a passionate kiss that’s over far too quickly. I choke out a tiny, surprised gasp and his lips curl against mine as he plants another softer kiss to them.
“I’ll pick you up later and we can stop by your place to get some clothes. There’s somewhere I want to take you tonight.”
“Oh, okay.”
The customers stare after him as he strides out and climbs into his car without looking back.
Ashley gives me a knowing smirk. “You’re no longer just his private obsession, girl. Billionaire Boy’s taking you on a date.”
