Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Chelsea

Without another word, he leans in and presses his lips to mine. His kiss is rough and commanding. After the initial shock, I lean into the kiss, enjoying its warmth.

I hadn’t realized how nice it would feel to have a guy initiate a kiss. Not just any guy, but one I’ve found myself recently attracted to.

I’m drunk, so when he pulls back to ask, “Do you want to be my fake girlfriend?”

I blink rapidly, my brain slow from all the alcohol and the drugging kiss. A giggle slips out of me as I reply, “Why not.”

I have nothing else to lose. With our new friendship, it’s kind of fun, especially if I get to kiss him without any strings.

Summer said to have fun…So that’s what I'm going to do.

What’s even better, is the fact I know Bobby was watching us. He’s no longer touching the woman. No, his eyes are fixed on me.

“Do you have plans Friday?” Evan asks, pulling my attention back to his face.

“No.”

“You do now.”

My eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Where are we going?”

“I’m throwing a party to celebrate a breaking news article. I want to reward my staff for their hard work.”

I smile at that. “Let’s have some fun.”

The smash of glass draws my attention toward the bar, where Bobby is storming away to the bathroom. My phone chimes, and I read the text with my pulse skyrocketing.

Bobby : You’re such a fucking slut.

Staring at his icy words, I retreat into myself. Memories of my relationship with Bobby flash before my eyes. I didn’t realize that even in a relationship with him, I still felt isolated. He was there, but when someone doesn’t give you affection or care about you in the way you deserve, you might as well be alone.

Part of me wants to disappear right now because he makes me believe I am a slut, that I’m not supposed to be here. Flirting and kissing a guy so soon. He makes me believe I still owe him respect and loyalty. But when I look at Evan, I am reminded I don’t.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this vulnerable or laughed with a man. Tonight, with Evan, I’ve truly enjoyed myself.

Feeling buzzed from the alcohol, I grab some more bread and cheese, trying to distract myself from my negative thoughts.

Should I have been more sexual?

Should I have given him more space?

Was I not funny enough, pretty enough, interesting enough?

Evan sighs, staring at my face as he considers his next words carefully. “You know I’ve been in your shoes before. You don’t have to hide your hurt and anger with me.”

I close my eyes, appreciating his words. He didn’t have to share his past with me, but he did, and I appreciate it. It makes our friendship feel more genuine.

The corner of my mouth tips up. “Thank you.”

Having already paid, he stands and offers me a hand. “Let’s go.”

I walk with a trembling chin, trying not to let anyone see how bumping into Bobby has affected me. My eyes stay focused on the exit, and I hold my breath, hoping Bobby doesn’t spot us leaving.

I make it to the door, but a hand reached out to grab it before I can.

Evan…

He pushes the door wide open and holds it out for me.

Outside, I welcome the light traffic, the night sky, and the fresh breeze that cools my skin from all the drinks.

I walk cautiously and stop midway along the sidewalk, where I think Bobby won’t see us. I’m not ready for a confrontation tonight. Not after his text.

Evan’s in his late thirties, so I suppose he’s more mature compared to someone in their late twenties, like Bobby. So I decide to blame Evan’s age for him being such a gentleman all night long.

“I won’t lie, showing up on your arm will piss Bobby off,” I say.

Evan hisses as his fingers still. “He won’t step a foot out of line with me there.”

I roll my eyes and shove his chest playfully. “You can’t babysit me all night.”

From trying to push his weight around, my feet wobble, and before I drunkenly fall over, his hands catch me by the arms. He holds me firmly until I straighten. “It’s not called babysitting when you're my date. I won’t leave your side.”

“What if I need to go to the bathroom?” I tease.

He narrows his eyes at me. “I’ll watch over you.”

I shake my head at his silly suggestion. “I don’t expect you to be with me the whole night.”

“Why?” He frowns, and I miss the way I could see clearly into his bright blue eyes.

“You're the CEO, you'll need to mingle.”

“I don’t need to do anything I don’t want to do.” Standing face-to-face with him as he challenges me makes me drop my gaze and shuffle my feet from side to side.

“You don’t want to stand with me all night.”

His hand grabs my chin and brings my gaze back to his.

“What if I want to?”

I’m breathing heavier now, the alcohol hitting me harder. “You couldn’t possibly.”

“I do.”

My head spins. “Thank you for tonight. I had a really good time. Minus you randomly drunk kissing me to piss off Bobby.”

He tips his head back and laughs harder. “You’ll forget this happened tomorrow. But it plays well into our temporary relationship.”

I giggle until I hiccup. “I know. I’m a little drunk. But you know we have to look like a real couple.”

His eyebrow rises as he laughs again. “A little? And yes, unless you change your mind.”

I go to shake my head but immediately stop when spots form in front of my eyes. “No changing my mind. He’s going down. But…” I hiccup again. “How will it work?”

“We pretend to be a real couple, but with no real feelings, until Bobby quits and leaves the city.”

“You know couples hang out, hold hands, and kiss.”

I never thought I’d be faking a relationship, but if this works, Bobby will see me doing just fine without him. I just hope I don’t end up feeling something for my new boyfriend.

“I’m well aware, and I promise to be a good showman. He’ll be convinced we're the real thing.”

And if I get to kiss him again, I don’t mind at all. “I like your plan.”

He waves at a car. “My driver will take you home.”

“What will you do?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But?”

“Chelsea…” He looks at me with a fixed stare again, his fingers caressing, as his mouth moves closer, and I feel his breath tickle my lips. “I’ll be fine, but I need your number,” he asks in a deep raspy voice.

I’m shaking all over, the anticipation and alcohol too much. I give him my number and then stand there, biting my lip, waiting and hoping he will tell me what he’s thinking. Or better, what he’s feeling. But he doesn’t lean in and close the distance, he just stands there, leaving me with a mix of longing and uncertainty. Each second stretches, my thoughts spiraling with doubt and desire. Is he hesitating, or am I reading too much into this moment?