The Billionaire Player (In Too Deep)

To me, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t just go around kissing whoever might want to kiss me without a second thought. Kissing was personal to me. It meant something. Maybe I was old fashioned or a bit of a prude, but I didn’t just kiss for the sake of kissing.

Maybe I was one of the few people left who thought of it that way, but kissing to me was an almost spiritual act. It was one of the most intimate things two people could do together, and I was of the opinion that it should be respected as that.

By the same logic, sex also wasn’t something I took lightly. I’d had a few one-night stands in my younger years, but I’d quickly realized I wasn’t capable of sleeping around. Once I’d done that with someone, it was too difficult for me to keep things casual.

I wasn’t naïve. I knew fucking someone didn’t mean you had to marry them, but surely it should mean more than just sticking a plug in a hole. Clearly, Tanner and I had very different views on the subject.

Thank God I never slept with him.

Smiling into my tea, I sent a quiet thank you to my mom for the advice. The time I’d taken to sip my hot drink had done what I’d set out for it to do.

I was thinking clearly now, no longer running on pure rage at myself for having acted so stupidly. In my head, I took a step back and regarded my situation with him as objectively as I could. The fact of that matter was that we weren’t the right fit. Not even for designer and client.

First, because I would never be able to look at him and see just another client, and second, because I wouldn’t be able to give my best to this job. I would constantly be obsessing over all the nasty things he was probably going to get up to in the rooms I poured my heart and soul into.

Being with him, even just to have meetings, wasn’t good for me. I knew myself. He would eventually manage to convince me to kiss him—or to do more—if I took the job. If he got deep enough under my skin again, which he’d probably be able to do pretty easily since it felt so good to let him in, I might even convince myself that maybe he could change. That maybe he would change for me.

If and when that happened, I would get in too deep and my heart would get bruised, if not broken. Knowing what I knew about him now, I couldn’t let that happen.

Since I didn’t want to have to deal with another face-to-face meeting with him, I got up to fetch my laptop. I needed less stress in my life, not more. Dream job or not, I was turning it down. For my own sake and for the sake of that house that deserved someone who would be able to give it their all.

Typing up a quick email, I attached the notes I’d taken and a few of the ideas I’d had. Then I ended with telling him that, regretfully, I wasn’t able to take him on as a client at this time. As soon as I’d checked over the content of the mail, I hit send.

I’d thought I would be at least a little relieved about finally having him out of my life for good, but I wasn’t. In fact, I felt like I’d had all the wind knocked out of my sails.

Sitting back, I closed my laptop and decided to take the day to process what had happened. Not only that Tanner had turned out to be a playboy, but also that I’d had to refuse a job I’d been more excited about than I had about any other in a long time.

Tomorrow morning, I’d make up the time I’d lost, but for now, I was going to make another cup of tea, and then I was going to work out a way to never even think about Tanner again.

God knows, with all the girls he probably has in his life, he sure as hell won’t be thinking about me.