I bite my lip, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. “She’s my best friend,” I say, and even as I say it, I know how small it sounds.
Thomas nods, and his hands find each other, fingers lacing tight. “I know. I’ve tried to figure out if it would be worse for her tofind out from me, or from you, or from someone else. It’s a shit scenario all around.”
A couple of beats go by, filled only by Billie’s voice and the clatter of spoons in the bus bin.
Finally, he says, “I want you, Andie. I want all of you. I wish you were living in my penthouse, not in that shared apartment with Stella and your friends. I want to feed you by hand, to wake up with you. I want to…” He trails off, searching for the line between confession and threat.
The words wrap around me, too heavy and too sweet at the same time. My eyes drop to the table, and I tuck my hair again, fingers shaking.
There’s something I’m not saying. Something huge and poisonous that sits in the back of my mouth, threatening to spill out. I almost blurt it—about the bet, about the sex video on my phone, about how I don’t deserve any of this. But the words die there, on my tongue, and all I do is nod.
Thomas leans back, his gaze burning through me. “We didn’t meet in a normal way, you and I,” he says. “We don’t have what a lot of people would define as a “normal” relationship because of our age gap. But I’d rather have this more than anything.”
My throat is tight. I force myself to swallow, then say, “Me too.” My voice is raw, stripped down to the nerve.
The billionaire smiles then, a real one. “That’s my girl,” he says. He reaches for my hand again, this time holding on.
We sit like that for a long time, the rain turning from drizzle to downpour, the windows shivering with each gust of wind. Thecafé grows quieter, the other patrons fading around us, until it feels like we’re the only people left in the room.
I look at him, really look, and realize: I want all of him, too. The mess, the risk, the way he makes my skin come alive.
But there’s still the matter of the secret. The thing that hangs between us, unsaid.
I try to push it down, just for today.
Because for now, in the golden warmth of Café Soleil, in the shelter of his hand, it almost feels possible. Maybe even real.
Maybe enough.
Thomas letsthe silence hang as long as possible, then breaks it with the confidence of a man who knows what he wants.
“We need to be smart about this,” he says, voice shifting to the register I’ve heard him use in boardrooms and at donor dinners. “I’m a trustee at Century, and you’re a gorgeous young co-ed. This isn’t a normal problem, Andie.” He runs a hand through his hair, then gestures at me, helpless. “I could lose my position. You could lose everything.”
He looks at me, and his face is so open, so unguarded, that I want to crawl across the table and bury myself in his chest. Instead, I just nod.
He goes on, “Stella will be hurt, but not forever. My daughter’s headstrong, but she’s not a bad person. And I think—” He hesitates, then finishes, “—I think she already suspects.”
I nod slowly. “Stella definitely suspects. I mean, I’ve been avoiding her at the apartment, but it’s the vibes I get. But do you think she’ll really be on our side? I mean, she said something to me, once. About you and women. About you not being a forever person, so I think she has doubts.”
He nods, a bleak smile on his face. “She’s not wrong. But she doesn’t realize this is different. She doesn’t know you. Not the way I do.”
His hand hovers on the table, close to mine but not touching. I can feel the static, the gravitational pull.
“She’s a good kid,” he begins again. “I haven’t been a perfect father, but we talk now. More than before. Actually, I call her every week, no matter how busy I am. I take her out when I’m at Century for board events, and I listen when she rants about her studies, friends, anything. I’ve tried to be better.”
He leans in, lowering his voice, even though the barista and the couple in the back are the only ones who could overhear.
“We’ll figure out a way to tell her,” he says. “I can do it. Or you can, or we can do it together, but I want to tell my daughter about us soon. I don’t want any more secrets.”
The words hit me like a cold wind. I know I should feel relief, or gratitude, but all I feel is the acid pulse of guilt under my skin because Stella and I are part of the virginity bet together, which Thomas still doesn’t know about. My hands start shaking, just a little, and I wrap them tighter around the mug to keep it steady.
He sees this, and there’s a flicker of worry in his eyes. “If you want out, say it now. I’ll still be here, but I won’t hold you to anything. This isn’t a contract, Andie. It’s a risk. I know that.”
I try to find my voice. “I don’t want out. I just… I don’t want to hurt her.” Or you, I think, but can’t say.
He reaches across the table, his palm open. I lay my hand in his, and he squeezes, hard enough to hurt.
“I’ll make it easier,” he says, and this time there’s a hint of that old predatory edge. “You could come live with me. Not now, not today. But soon. There’s no need for you to be squeezed into an apartment with three other girls. Let me support you through your fifth year, help you get what you want. I want to be there every day. Morning, noon, and night.”
