The Billionaire Player (In Too Deep)

He cocked his head, lifting his hand to his forehead as he studied the distance. “A few minutes at most. Hold on tight, but don’t worry. I might just come back for you if you go over.”

With that, he waited until I got a good grip on the handles and then eased the throttle slowly forward. The boat picked up speed with every nudge of his hand, and soon, we were practically flying across the surface of the lake.

It was exhilarating. The wind whipped at my face and teased my hair up above my head, but I was enjoying it too much to care. Letting out a loud whoop, I turned in my seat to watch the landscape rushing by.

When our house and dock came into view much too soon, I was a little disappointed as he slowed the boat down again and effortlessly parked it where we’d found it, bringing us to a complete stop. “That was awesome.”

He grinned. “We’ll take it for another spin before we leave. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said, but as I climbed off, my knees were a little shaky and the movement as I walked alerted me to the fact that I was slightly sunburned. And windblown. And fucking starving. “Next time, maybe we should bring some snacks with us. It’s got to be well after lunch.”

“Yeah. I’m fucking starving,” he said, echoing my exact thought from a few seconds ago.

“It’s like you plucked the words right out of my head.”

We walked up to the house side by side but far enough apart that we didn’t touch at all. I’d noticed he’d been keeping his distance from me all day, and I was grateful for it. It reaffirmed the fact that he actually felt sorry about what had happened and hadn’t just said that he was when he didn’t feel it.

“Why don’t we go out to eat?” he suggested. “An early dinner. My treat, of course.”

I frowned. “I don’t know. You already got dinner last night and I wouldn’t feel right with you spending money on me like that. I can pay for myself.”

“Nope. Let me, please? To make up for what happened last night. Buying you a meal is the least I can do.”

We argued about it for the rest of the way up, but eventually, he convinced me. Once we reached the house, we agreed to meet at the front door in thirty minutes and went off in our different directions to get cleaned up.

The restaurant he took me to was a very nice one in the town nearby. We were seated outside in a small garden with lights strung overhead and lanterns flickering all around us. It was the kind of place a couple would go to for a special date, and while we were eating, it felt like we were on one.

I was back to having fun with him, though, even if we didn’t seem to have all that much in common in terms of hobbies. Before I could stop myself from doing it, I was flirting with him regardless of how much I kept reminding myself not to.

“Okay, so you don’t like comedies,” he said. “Who doesn’t like comedies?”

“I don’t like slapstick comedies,” I corrected lightly, toning down the megawatt smile I’d just felt appearing on my face. “Normal comedies are great, but slapstick just annoys me. What about you? How can you not like reality shows? Too scared you’re going to end up on one?”

He laughed, pursing his lips as he pretended to consider it. “I’ve never really thought about it like that, but maybe. I’d kick ass at a Survivor type thing, though. Or one of those shows where people go hunting for ghosts.”

“Oooo, I love horror,” I said. “Especially bad horror movies and making fun of the characters in them.”

“You do that?” he asked, and when I nodded, he broke out into the widest grin I’d seen from him so far. “So do I. It’s my guilty pleasure. The thing I do on Sunday nights to cheer myself up about the fact that Monday is coming.”

“Me too,” I practically squealed, feeling my cheeks burst into flames over how I must’ve just sounded. Seriously, Larisa. Stop it. Stop it right now.

Tanner didn’t seem bothered by it at all, though. He laughed and leaned back in his chair, waggling his brows at me as he folded his arms loosely over his chest. “Want to get out of here? I feel a bad horror movie marathon coming on.”

“I’ll make the popcorn,” I promised, and when we got back to the lake house, that was exactly what I did.

We both went upstairs to change into pajamas, then met in the home theater. Me with the popcorn, and him with a bottle of wine and glasses. After spending a minute fiddling with the entertainment system, we sat down next to each other and had a ball mocking the bad choices of the people in the flick and the awful special effects.

“I mean, come on. They couldn’t even buy the fake blood from a decent place? That just looks like the guy spilled ketchup on his shirt,” I said, laughing as I turned to face him.

It was about then that I realized I’d been leaning on him. He’d kept his hands to himself, but I’d scooted over so much that our sides were pressed together and our faces were only inches apart.

When our eyes met, he didn’t look away, but he also didn’t lean in again to make a move. My heart was beating so fast, it was like it was trying to take off out of my chest. Memories of last night and my reaction when he’d done the exact same thing played through my head like one of the bad movies we were watching, but I didn’t care.

Without overthinking it, I just leaned in and pressed my lips to his, knowing but not giving a damn that this, what I was doing right now, made me the biggest fucking hypocrite in the world.

But I was a hypocrite who was stealing a kiss from a guy who’d been making me laugh all day, and I was okay with that.