Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Chelsea

I look back at Evan and smile. “Don’t blame me if you’re bored.”

The bartender makes the drink in front of us. He moves around the bar effortlessly in a crisp dress shirt and sleek, fitted vest, while smiling at the few patrons waiting down the bar for a drink.

As soon as he places the drink on top of the wooden bar, I recognize what it is from the other night. Whiskey business…

“That should help you.” He gazes at me as if he’s trying to read me.

“I’m not nervous,” I insist.

“You’re with me. We’re both going to be just fine.”

He understands how insecure I am about Bobby’s betrayal. Evan knows this feeling all too well.

I stare at him in awe.

The intensity of our stare is intoxicating.

A colleague of Evans interrupts, and as Evan starts a polite conversation, I scan the room. I still feel sick over the fact I’m here to get revenge on Bobby. Why the fuck do I still care? What difference is it going to make? Why is it so important for me to cause him the same pain he caused me?

Just as I think that I spot Shyla with her blonde hair in beach waves and a stunning navy floor-length dress. I can only see her from the side, but I know what she looks like because it’s engraved in my mind.

A walking reminder I look nothing like that.

Between the blonde and the redhead, if Bobby has a type, I obviously wasn’t it.

I watch Shyla laugh and smile. She’s beautiful. I realize I don’t feel angry anymore. Even as I stare and watch Bobby slide up beside her and touch her lower back in a she’s mine type of way. It’s not her fault he’s sleazy. How about the other night? Did she know he was having dinner with another woman? I suspect not. And knowing how heartbroken I’ve been, I can only assume she will be too when she figures out the truth.

“Chelsea,” Evans says, louder than usual.

I shake my head. “Sorry. I was distracted.”

His jaw ticks. “I see.”

“It’s fine. I knew I’d be forced to confront them. That was the whole point of me coming with you as a date tonight.”

He steps closer to me, invading all my senses. My heart beats harder inside my chest.

“It upsets you.”

I can’t lie to him. “It makes me feel stupid,” I say on a breath.

He lowers his head toward mine, and I close my eyes.

“I’ll make sure you never feel stupid again.”

“Ho–”

He steps closer and drops his mouth onto my lips, then down to my neck, where he peppers soft kisses along the side of it. The heat of his lips sends a shudder down my spine, and my heart races. Is this really happening? My mind spins, trying to catch up with this sudden touch. Once I get over the initial shock, I sink into it. My head tips to the side, giving him more access, and letting the feeling of his lips take over. His hand grabs my hip, pulling me closer, and he growls against my throat, the sound vibrating through me and igniting a fire between my thighs.

Needing to touch him, I reach my hands to his head, threading my fingers through his hair and encouraging him. I’m astonished at how natural this feels, how right. This is supposed to be fake, a performance for everyone else, but nothing about this moment feels staged.

The touch of his warm lips, the tickle of his breath on my skin, it’s intoxicating. My body reacts to him in ways I never expected, heat pooling in my core and a dizzying rush of desire. I’m getting lost in the moment, each kiss making me crave more. So when he pulls away, I’m breathless and confused. A sense of loss washes over me, and I want him to continue. It seems he does too. His blue eyes are now dark storms as he stares at me hungrily, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

What’s happening to me? This was all supposed to be an arrangement, but every kiss and touch blur the lines more and more. I can’t deny the chemistry between us; it’s magnetic, and it scares me as much as it excites me.

“So…” He releases his hand from my hip and steps back. It causes my hand to drop.

I take a centering breath, trying to calm the radiating heat on my skin and concentrate on what we were talking about. His gaze moves to the other side of the room.

I follow his line of sight and notice Bobby glaring at us. “Bobby is stupid. He let you go.” With a grunt, he takes a big sip from his glass.

Gripping my glass tighter, I shake my head, disgusted with myself. “I can’t believe I was in a relationship with him.”

“What makes you say that?” He turns back to face me.

But it’s my turn to look away. “Because if he can cheat and move on that fast, I never mattered to him.”

“At least you weren’t engaged to him.”

“But I wanted to be,” I admit, hoping it makes him feel better about his own past mistake.

“Then it’s a good thing you found out before it happened.”

I sigh heavily before finishing my drink.

“Let’s dance.” He cocks his head toward the dance floor.

The energy of the room is more relaxed as the night unfolds; people sway to the beat of the music, holding their drinks under the flickering neon lights. There’s a group of people in one corner of the dance floor who are cheering on a guy as he shows off some freestyle moves. In another section, a couple dances alone. The DJ is perched higher than the crowd, illuminated under the lights, the atmosphere in the room is captivating and my hips move on their own. I love what’s currently playing. “Do you know how to dance?”

“Yes.”

I eye him critically with a smirk.

“My gram taught me.”

I smile. “Well, at least one of us had lessons.”

I’m not a great dancer, but I have fun trying. As if he can read my apprehension, he says, “I can teach you.”

I bring the glass to my lips and tip the rest of the drink down my throat.

He copies and then holds out his arm. Linking my arm through his, we walk to the dance floor.

The music changes to “Photograph” by Ed Sheeran.

We join the small crowd in the middle, and I turn to face him. Our chests collide. My hand goes to his shoulders, and his hands settle on my lower back. We sway to the beat. He moves one of his hands to peel my hand off his shoulder, causing me to frown in confusion. What’s he doing?

“Have you ever spun before?”

“No.” I smile, knowing I’ve always wanted a guy to do that with me.

“Follow my lead.”

“Just don’t drop me.”

He gives me a wolfish grin. “I’d never let you down.”

My eyes ping-pong between his as my throat constricts. He gently pushes me out, and I spin, laughing when he catches me easily.

His touch, our connection, it’s all effortless.

“That was fun.”

“Again?”

“Again,” I say with a giddy grin.

He does it again before we return to our easy side swaying. Our bodies flush together. Hearts beating as one.

The song ends and another one begins, neither of us wants it to end, so we don’t stop dancing and laughing through multiple songs.

“I had no idea you’d be this good. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Lincoln.”

His gaze makes another shiver run down my spine. His nearness, his touch, his body heat is all too much. The song changes to a slower melody, but neither one of us makes a move to leave. Instead, he pushes on my lower back, pulling me closer to him. His breath hitting my temple stirs intense desire that makes it difficult for me to think clearly.

Evan dances as easy as breathing and I don’t want him to stop touching me. So I keep my mouth shut. We continue to dance, no words spoken between us, but our eyes stay on each other as our bodies sway in tune to the beat.

We finally stop once the song ends. Evan’s fingers draw circles on my lower back, and I get lost in his blue eyes.

He clears his throat. “I need to make a speech now.”

Stepping back, I wave my hand in a go motion. “Go. I’ll be here.” I point over to the spot near the bar, planning to order another drink, suddenly needing one to cool down.

“No. You’re coming.”

I frown. “Why?”

“I want you there.”

His answer makes my head spin and all that comes out is a measly, “Okay.”

He grabs my hand and walks me through the crowded dance floor until we’re at the front of the room. I don’t miss the looks or the whispering going on around us. Not that I can blame them. It’s Evan. They’ll want to know everything about me. He’s in media, for God's sake.

Stopping, he moves in front of me. His eyes bore into mine, holding my attention as if I’d look anywhere but him.

“I won’t be long.”

As he turns to go to the stage, I watch his every step. The room silences when he taps the mic.

“Thanks for coming tonight. You all know I’m a man of few words, so this speech will be short and sweet. Each of you are what makes this company amazing. Thank you for all your hard work and the teamwork you demonstrate every day. Enjoy tonight, this is all about you.”

I’m smiling from ear to ear. The crowd erupts, and as I take a look around the room. I’m not the only one who is mesmerised by him.

He walks off the stage and strides over to me.

“That was great,” I say.

He takes a deep breath. “Thank you. I’m fortunate to have such an incredible team and I’m glad we could honor them tonight.”

The music is turned up, and the lights are dimmed.

“Ready for another drink?”

I take it we aren’t dancing again.

“Evan, you’ve been babysitting me all night. I can be alone for a few. You should socialize with your employees.”

I feel bad; we’re at his work function and he hasn’t spoken to more than a couple of people.

“No. I hate socializing.”

“But you’ve been doing that with me all night.” I laugh.

“It’s different with you.”

I don’t argue; instead, I welcome his attention. His honesty makes me let go and stop second-guessing his need to be beside me.

“Let’s grab a drink. I want to show you some pictures of the studio.”

He holds out his arm. I link mine through, even if I’m bummed because I wanted to hold his hand.

We arrive at the bar and wait only a few minutes before getting our drinks.

“Come over here,” he says, and we move away from the bar to a seating area.

The tables are arranged so each table has two seats and are at a distance that allows for private conversation, instead of smashed together like most events. I appreciate the break from the crowd.

I sink into the chair, crossing my legs and settling the glass on top of my thigh.

“So, my studio is getting thirty beds. I have ordered the balls, weights and rings, but I want supplements to sell,” I say as I show him photos on my phone. As I scroll, it lands on pictures of potential supplement brands.

“Mmm,” he murmurs as he drinks.

“I don’t know which one to sell. There’s so many on the market.”

He lowers his glass. “Have you tried any?”

"A few."

“My advice would be for you to never sell a product you can’t vouch for."

“My clients might have different needs.”

"I have a friend who might be able to help. He’s in the pharmaceutical area.”

“You have a lot of friends.”

He nods and cradles his glass in both hands.

I uncross my legs as I answer. “I’d love help.”

His gaze drops to my legs and then slowly tracks back up to my face. “What else are you doing for the studio?”

“I have towels being embroidered to sell, and my signage is being made out of acrylic.”

“What colors?”

I’m so distracted by the intensity of his stare, I forget momentarily what we were talking about. “Of what?”

“Both.”

I shuffle in the seat, trying to refocus. “I like the neutral tones, so a mix of brown, nude, and taupe.”

His eyebrows lift. “The sign?”

“No, sorry, those are for the towels, booty bands, and mats. As for the sign, I’m thinking it should be brown.”

“I love how excited you look when you are talking about this.”

With a mischievous grin, I tease, “You’ll have to take a class there when it opens. Practice makes perfect.”

He sinks farther into the chair, leaning to one side with a tilt of his head. “Not happening. I've had my lifetime quota of Pilates.”

I giggle. “I know, I’m just teasing. I appreciate you coming to check it out, though. You’re the first to come to one of my classes.”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” The rasp in his voice has my belly flipping.

My teeth scrapes along my bottom lip. “No, everyone was too busy.”

“Bullshit. No one can be that busy to support their girlfriend.” He shakes his head.

“I obviously wasn’t a priority,” I mumble, unable to hide how small I felt in the relationship. Evan knows exactly what I went through.

“Remind me why you stayed with him so long?”

“He made me believe I wasn’t good enough. So that only made me want to prove that I was and that we were great together.”

He shakes his head, but his lips turn up. “Promise me you won’t believe that again.”

I lower my voice. “I promise.”

“Good,” he says with a crooked grin, his eyes darkening before surprising me by leaning in and kissing my temple.

It feels like the air has shifted between us. I take a sip of alcohol to wet my throat.

He shifts forward on the chair. “Are you ready to leave?”

My pulse picks up pace. “It only started two hours ago and you’re the host.”

He shrugs and says nonchalantly, “They’ll have more fun without me.”

“How do you know?”

“I hear all the stories from Gabby.”

He adjusts the strap on my dress, sending a tingle down my arm.

“Of course,” I breathe.

His tongue skims his bottom lip. “Come on, I’ll take you somewhere else.”

I twist and glance around the room, but Bobby is nowhere in sight. Not that it matters. I haven’t seen him since the start of the night, and the thought of him now feels insignificant. The plan for revenge, the idea of fake dating…it all seems stupid now. The only thing that truly matters tonight is the connection between us. The rest of the world, including Bobby, has faded into the distance.

I lower my glass to the table as Evan stands.

“Let’s go.” I stand, and he takes my hand in his as we slip out the exit. The cool air is refreshing and instantly wakes me up.

Evan’s thumb moves along my hand in a soft pattern. The electricity bouncing between us has been growing all night. Now we're alone. Which means I’m about to test my restraint.

Just before I get a chance to speak, Evan yanks my hand, causing me to spin.

His hand lands on my hip, gripping me tightly. I let out a shuddery breath when his other hand breaks from our hold and slides deep into my hair. “I love your hair.”

A slow, easy smile stretches on my face. “Thanks.”

He laughs. “You’re not used to compliments. I should know.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

His hand skims my face, and I tremble at the touch. “I never received one fucking compliment. But with you…”

“What about me?” I push, pleading to know what he’s thinking. We share the same insecurities. Never feeling good enough. Always giving and never receiving.

“You should be told how beautiful you are.”

My bottom lip wobbles. “I never heard those words,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper.

“I know,” he says, his blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat. “And you should’ve. You fucking deserve to know how incredible you are. Not just beautiful, but smart too.”

I’m trembling inside at words I’ve longed to hear. Is he saying this because he means it, or is this part of the arrangement? I can’t help but hold a flicker of hope that this is genuine. But then, why now, when he always kept his distance emotionally?

As if no one else is around, he steps closer, and I follow. We’re both breathing hard, and I know he wants to kiss me just as I want to kiss him. My eyes roam his face, taking in every inch of it. There’s conflict in his eyes before it’s gone and replaced with darkness. As if reading his thoughts, my hands dive into his hair, and he brings his mouth an inch from mine.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bobby’s words slice through the air, like a bucket of ice water is poured on us.

With my breath caught in my throat, Bobby closes in on me.

“Step away,” Evan cuts in, his tone icy. The command makes my skin prickle with worry, a wave of unease taking over any happiness and desire from just moments ago.