Worth Billions (Worth It 1)

Slipping out of my flip flops and pulling on a pair of shorts under my nightshirt, I sighed with relief. As bold as I may have sounded, I really hadn’t wanted to sleep on the street.

Making my way to the kitchen, I could smell of chocolate in the air. I sat down at the kitchen table, watching as Anton’s godson made the perfect hot cocoa. He stirred the warm milk in a small simmering pot before he added the cocoa powder and the shavings, then topped it off with a little sweetened condensed milk. I watched him pour it into the mug before grabbing a handful of small marshmallows, tossing them into the mug.

“Anton used to make it that way,” I said.

“That’s how I learned,” he said. “By watching him as he always made it for me. Here.”

He set the mug in front of me and the smells brought back so many memories. Anton’s voice. His thick Russian accent had always been so comforting. His kindness so overwhelming. So many times he had taken me in. He had given me what I needed when Andy failed to do it. His hands were large and callused, yet his hugs and his touches were soft and gentle.

Tears rose to my eyes as a hand came down on my shoulder, patting it just like Anton used to do.

This man really was related to Anton somehow.

“Anton would be pleased to know he’s missed by such a pretty girl.”

I giggled as a tear streamed down my cheek.

“That was his nickname for me, you know,” I said. “Pretty girl. He always called me that. I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”

“Grayson,” he said. “Anton always called me Gray.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Gray. Thank you for the hot cocoa,” I said.

The chair next to me moved, and I felt him sit down beside me. I wiped at the tears streaming down my cheeks and cleared my throat. It hurt to think about Anton. To be reminded of his presence in this way, somehow allowed me to mourn his passing. He was the only man in my life to ever show me the type of kindness he had. Time and time again, he opened my eyes to the way people should be treated.

To the way a man should treat a woman.

He never interjected his opin

ions into my love life with Andy. Never judged it. Never made me talk about it. Though somehow he always gently dispensed these nuggets of knowledge geared towards finding what made me happy, and finding someone to spend my time with that saw and valued my worth.

It was his way of informing and guiding, without being intrusive or judgmental.

I’d miss that most of all.

“So, what are you doing in Stillsville?” Gray asked.

I shrugged as I kept my gaze in my mug. I had no idea how to answer that question and didn’t even know where to begin.

“You aren’t from here. See, I used to live here, and I know the kind of people that stay. I recognize the people still here. That’s not you,” he said.

“I could be different,” I replied.

“It’s your voice that gives you away. I can hear it in your voice. Still full of hope.”

“Hope?”

“People from this town don’t have that in their voices anymore. You do,” he said.

My eyes flickered over to his momentarily and took in the intensity of his sky blue gaze. It was too much. The way he was looking at me, with his chiseled chest and the rings of his abs. His tanned skin and his muscular arms. His forearms practically bulged with veins. I wished he would put a shirt on. His body heat was too much. Too intense. I wanted to reach out and touch the divot of his chest with my finger. To run my hands down the washboard of his torso.

But as much as I wanted to touch him, I didn’t want to know him. And I didn’t want him to know me. I didn’t want to tell him how I’d followed Andy around like some lost little puppy. How I’d trusted such a bullshit excuse for a man and got burned for it. I didn’t want him viewing me as weak. Because I wasn’t. I was strong. I had paved a way for myself in North Dakota where I met Andy. I’d gotten out from underneath the grasp of my parents and paid for my own two-year education. I’d had a transcriptionist job I worked right out of my damn apartment and was footing my own bills.

All I was guilty of was wanting a romantic dream for my life.

And in the process, it made me nothing but weak.

I’d never been weak.