Mr. Bad Intentions (Alphalicious Billionaires Boss 6)

Either she doesn’t actually want me to leave, which is nine out of ten on the unlikely scale, or she doesn’t or can’t tell me the real reason she dumped me.

If there’s one thing that I can’t stand, it’s a mystery. Literally. I mean, look at where I am right now, still trying to figure this out eight years after the fact. Unable to move on, blah, blah, more blah, and yet more blah. I know she didn’t mean to put a challenge out there or to intrigue me, but she has, and she has.

There is no chance in hot Amarillo sunny hell that I’m packing up and leaving.

Not until I know the truth.

CHAPTER 9

Rea

Nearing the dreaded dinner hour, I realized freaking Kayden Deroy wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. Well, I already knew that, but I had some inspiration. I’d managed to do some yoga followed by a long meditation session to banish all thoughts of Kayden and the terrible kiss from my head. It was nasty. I mean, who wants to kiss Kayden Deroy? Other than half the world, that is? I so did not enjoy it. Not one bit of me rejoiced to have those lips on mine again, and the past didn’t wrap its gnarled fingers around me and tug hard at my insides. I did not feel homesick for a time, nor a place. Certainly, it wasn’t longing that welled in my chest, and my heart didn’t feel a tinge of heartache.

So, maybe all those things happened. But whatever. I’m human.

I can’t say all the inspiration was mine because I had texted Sadie around three to ask for some special help. As in, the incredibly talented writer brainstorming kind of help I knew she’d come up with. Sadie is a very creative person. And her idea? Fight back.

As I wait for a knock on the front door, either by Kayden or the dinner I’ve ordered just so he can’t pull a fast one and cook for me, then guilt me into sitting down to a meal with him because I can’t stand wasting food, I go over Sadie’s plan. It’s still in the early stages, but the pizza was her idea. It was also her idea that she set me up on a blind date. And for me to go to work tomorrow with my head held high and freaking claim the promotion I spent years earning. After that, I’m not sure what she’s going to come up with, but I know it’ll be good. Basically, I’m going to stick it to Kayden. He wants to come and invade my life? I’ll show him that it’s a life which won’t ever involve him no matter how good—I mean bad, shit— his kisses might be.

Five minutes later, the knocker bangs hard, and I let out a sigh of relief when I find the pizza guy standing there. The delicious aroma of cheesy goodness, mouth-watering spicy meats, onions, and green peppers wafts between us as he produces a box. The kid is probably no more than twelve, and I wonder how the heck he has his license. I realize that at thirty, I’m also becoming an ancient prune because I catch myself noting, with displeasure, how the kid’s pants are hanging somewhere around his knees. How can that be comfortable? Wouldn’t it seriously hamper movement? Jesus, these are straight-up #grannythoughts.

I whip out a twenty and tell the kid to keep the change. He grins happily at me because it was somewhere around a nine-dollar tip for just a pizza. Yeah, so I didn’t go for quality here. Sue me. The grease is divinely delicious.

I take the pizza into the kitchen and wait. It’s torture sitting there in front of it, but I force myself to hold out. Exactly seven minutes and twenty-eight seconds later, I watch as Kayden comes striding out his front door. He’s not freshly showered, of course, and his hair is a wild mahogany mess. But he’s wearing a fresh black t-shirt with a white skull on the front and a different pair of jeans, which are more faded and have more tears. They probably cup his bottom end just right, too. Fml, by the way, for thoughts like that. Bad brain. Down, sit, stop. Cease and desist. I bet he applied fresh deodorant or cologne and that he smells woodsy and masculine. I also bet if I licked him, he’d taste better than this pizza. Fuuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkk no. Come on!

The door knocker went off with a bang, and my knees nearly do too, when I force myself to get up from the table. I’m shaking, and it annoys me. It takes serious lady balls to stand up to Kayden because standing up to him is also standing up to the past, and the past and I aren’t very good friends. I tried extremely hard to leave that behind when I came to Amarillo, especially since I purposely moved as far away from home as I could.