Playboy Billionaire

“So it doesn't scare you away?”

“Not at all. I'm here, aren't I?”

AMELIA

“You know, you don't have to come home with me if you don't want to,” he said, looking down at me with a serious look in his eyes. “I don't want you to feel pressured into doing something you're not comfortable with or just don't want to do. It's okay to say so, you know.”

“Hush,” I said, leaning forward and kissing those soft lips of his for the first time since our night together – and they were every bit as delicious now as they had been then. “I wouldn't be coming home with you if I didn't want to. I'm not the type of girl who lets herself get talked into doing things I don't want to do. I make my own decisions, thank you very much.”

The Uber drive pulled to a stop outside of Drew's house, and that's when it clicked. The large house wasn't because he was married or had a family. It was the exact opposite, in fact. He'd lost his family and the only thing he had left was his home. Large and beautiful, but heart-breaking at the same time. Especially since it was just him and his demons.

That was probably why there was a lack of anything sentimental or personal in there. That's why it seemed so sterile and barren. The memories were just too overwhelming for him in that moment. It was sad and really highlighted just how alone in the world he was. It made my heart go out to him.

“You know,” I said with a laugh, “I was so worried you were married or had kids that first night. I thought you were a cheater and I was just your side piece for the night.”

“Nah,” he said, smiling as we walked in together hand-in-hand. “No wife. Never had the time for a relationship before. Not while I was overseas. I never understood how the other guys could manage it, it just seemed too painful to be apart from somebody you cared about for so long.”

“I can imagine,” I said softly. “Being so far away, hardly getting to talk, let alone –”

“And dying,” he added. There was a distant look in his eyes for a moment, then he turned to me and gave me a soft smile before he elaborated. “Mason was going to ask his girlfriend to marry him when he got home. She made him so happy – he practically glowed whenever he mentioned her name. But that obviously, never happened.”

I had no words that could express how terribly sad that was, so instead, I just said, “I'm sorry, Drew.”

He sighed as he opened his front door. “It is what it is,” he said. “Carrie eventually moved on. Last I heard, she was engaged to a banker or a lawyer or something. Somebody who wasn't getting deployed to shithole countries where they get shot at day in and day out – guys who probably had a really minimal risk of dying in an IED explosion.”

We stepped inside and Drew took my coat, placing it on the rack beside the door. We walked down the hallway – the same hallway I'd used to sneak out of his house a week or so before – and sat in the living room, on the very couch we'd had sex on. I couldn't help but blush at the memories as they came rushing to the surface. And I could tell Drew was feeling somewhat awkward about it all too. Neither of us said much. We sat there staring at each other for a long moment. And eventually, the awkwardness faded and the silence became – companionable.

Drew pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear and smiled. “If I'm being honest, I always wanted what Mason had,” he said softly.

“What do you mean?”

“With Carrie. I always wanted that. That sort of deep, abiding love and stability. I wanted it even though I mocked him for it relentlessly. The truth of the matter was that I wasn't sure anyone would have me the way Carrie and Mason had each other.”

Reaching out, I stroked his cheek and he closed his eyes as he leaned into my touch. “I don't know why you'd think something silly like that. You're gorgeous.”

“And fuck –”

“You're not fucked up in the head!” I said, cutting him off before he could finish that thought. “Stop that.”

“Sorry, hard to break the thought process, I guess,” he said. “It was a process that started long before I enlisted.”

“I figured as much,” I said. “But we're going to work on that, okay?”

“You're not my therapist anymore,” he teased. “Makes it kinda hard to work on it with you.”

“I don't have to be your personal therapist,” I said. “I can still help you become a better person.”

He looked at me for a long moment and then gave me a warm, genuine smile – the first I'd ever seen cross his face.

“I'd like that, Amelia,” he said. “I'd like that a lot.”

The way he said my name, as if it was some sort of delicate flower, was nice to hear. After hearing him call me nothing but Dr. Emerson for days, it was refreshing to hear my first name on his lips. Which speaking of lips – Drew leaned forward and kissed me, his soft, full lips pressed to mine as he slipped his tongue into my mouth. I felt his hand in my hair, gently pulling on it as I kissed him back, relishing in the sensation of his lips against mine.

“Not here,” he said, pulling back.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my desire growing by the second.

I wanted him, and I wanted him right then and there. But if not there, then where?