Billionaires Dollar Series

My irritation almost melts away at his touch. But then I remember how he’d let her touch him, and my jealousy is as irrational as it’s infuriating.

A hand tips my head back. “No questions for me?”

There’s only one, and it’s on the tip of my tongue. I bite it back. “Cole could come back any moment.”

“He was talking to the mayor, last I saw. He won’t return before the second bell, and the first hasn’t rung yet.”

My hand digs into the fabric of his sleeve, feeling the solid, firm muscle of his forearm beneath. I won’t ask, I won’t ask.

“Did you match our outfits on purpose?” he asks.

“Did you speak to your ex out there on purpose?”

His thumb rubs a small circle over my ribs. “My ex?”

“The woman in purple.”

“Hmm. Riley.” His voice is amused, damn him. “That was ages ago, and we were never in a relationship.”

“Right,” I murmur. “You don’t do relationships.”

“Are you jealous, Blair?”

I scoff, trying to regain some small portion of my dignity. “No.”

“Yes, you are. And you were the one who said your old crush was gone.” He turns us around, my back against the velvet-lined wall, his body large against mine. “Are you sure that was the truth?”

“I’m completely certain.”

His head dips and his lips make contact with my neck, right below my ear. He’s not fighting fair. “Then why would it bother you?”

“Why did André bother you?” It takes effort to phrase the sentence, with Nick’s lips trailing my exposed collarbone.

“You know the answer to that.” His voice is a dark caress against my skin.

My eyes flutter closed when his lips find mine. They coax and press and tease, kissing me with expert precision. When he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine, my heart is a stampede in my chest. “Well,” I murmur. “In that case, you already know the answer to your question. My crush never disappeared.”

His breath catches.

There it is. He knows. My crush is more alive than it’s ever been, humming between us, drawing me to him with every breath I take-strengthened by the kiss.

“Blair, I-”

The bell rings out, calling for the end of intermission. It drowns out whatever words might have followed. Nick steps back, and just in time, because the door to the box swings open a few seconds later.

The look in Nick’s eyes stays with me for the rest of the show. It hadn’t been one of happiness or triumph. No, he’d looked at me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t understand, a prize he couldn’t have, a treasure that just slipped further out of his grasp.

There had been no joy in those eyes.

Nick doesn’t look at me for the entire second act. Part of me can explain that away-my brother is three feet away-but another part is silently begging him to just turn his head once.

As it turns out, silent begging usually falls on deaf ears. Who knew?

There’s no hope of talking to him on our way out of the opera, either. And what would I say if there was? Take back the answer to his question? No-it’s the truth.

We emerge out on the sidewalk after the performance, three chatty individuals and one very silent.

“That was incredible.” Skye’s eyes are wide, hands knotting the belt of her jacket. “I had no idea it would be so funny!”

“It’s one of Donizetti’s comedies, you know.” Cole throws an arm around her shoulder. “One would hope it’s funny.”

She rolls her eyes at his teasing and turns to me for support. “Yes, well, I was just surprised that centuries’ old humor still holds up.”

I can’t resist. “You read centuries’ old books all the time.”

Skye narrows her eyes and looks between us. “I think I like it better when you’re not on the same team. Nick, help me out.”

At her words, Nick turns his gaze back to us and the conversation at hand. “Whatever you need,” he says.

Cole chuckles. “Man, you’re not listening at all. Was the opera that bad for you, then?”

Nick’s jaw tightens. “No, not at all.”

“A love potion,” Skye says with a sigh. “The ultimate plot device. It was a bad idea from the start.”

“Well, Nemorino thought he didn’t have a choice,” I say, sympathetic for the main character’s struggles with unrequited love.

“There’s always a choice,” Skye says. “He could simply have explained to her what he felt.”

“As any self-respecting man would,” my brother agrees. He tucks Skye in closer to his body. She responds in kind, glancing up at him. The quick look is filled with so much emotion that for the first time in ages I have to look away.

“We’re going to head home,” he says. “Charles should be here any second with the car. Who wants to be dropped off?”

Nick shakes his head. “Thanks, but I have plans.”

“All right. Thanks for coming.” Cole reaches out and gives Nick a slap on the shoulder. “See you on Thursday, right?”

“Yeah. You won’t win this one, I’m telling you.”

Cole’s grin is wide. “Well in that case, I’m not listening. Blair? Going home?”

“Yes.” Nick might be staying out, but I’m not. The night has been exciting enough as it is, and the last thing I want is to hang around in the hopes of being included in his late-night plans. Besides, it’s not like we’ve defined anything, right? Going home is a good plan.NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

Apparently it wasn’t.

No sooner have I closed the front door behind me than there’s a furious knocking on it. Nick is there, his jaw working. “What was that?”

“What was what?”