Page 70 of One Midnight Kiss

“Aaron’s bark is worse than his bite,” I assured her. “He doesn’t have concrete proof. It would be his word against ours, and we have the upper hand. If he tries to expose us, we expose him right back. He’s a jealous employee who harassed you because he can’t stand the idea of working under a woman.”

She stared at me, her expression unreadable. “You’re not what I thought you’d be,” she said softly.

I raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I’d be?”

“A billionaire,” she said, almost teasingly.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m also that.”

“No, I mean…” She trailed off, glancing around my apartment. “You drive a used truck.”

I shrugged. “That’s what sets billionaires apart from millionaires?”

“Do all billionaires drive twenty-year-old Toyota Tacomas?”

“The few I’ve met,” I replied dryly. The screen in front of me started flashing, indicating that the hack was complete. I leaned back, satisfied. Aaron wouldn’t suspect a thing. “I also don’t have multiple properties and contribute to climate pollution with my private jet.”

She bit her lip, trying not to smile. “What do you do with your money, then?”

I hesitated, then decided to be honest. “I try to help people when I can. Like ensuring our friends can have the baby they desperately want.”

Her face softened, and she looked away, clearly caught off guard by my admission. “I didn’t mean to imply⁠—”

I cut her off. “I didn’t get into this for the money. It’s a nice perk, sure, but I don’t need it. I struggle to find ways to spend it, honestly. I own, like, three Pizza Huts.”

“You could buy a mansion,” she pointed out.

“I don’t need a mansion.”

“I’m the director of a major advertising firm, and even I can’t afford a house yet,” she said bitterly. “I rent. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“That’s because you have over a hundred thousand dollars in student loans,” I said without thinking.

Her face went white. “How did you—” She paused, realization dawning. “Wilder told you.”

I shrugged, turning back to my laptop. “You should let me pay them off.”

“What?” She sounded genuinely appalled. “No way.”

“Would you rather have one of my Pizza Huts?”

“No, don’t be crazy.”

“Think of it as payment for my services tonight,” I said, smirking.

“If anything, I’d owe you after this, not the other way around,” she shot back.

I studied her for a long moment. “Why are you so against it?”

“Because it’s not your responsibility,” she said, her voice fierce. “I don’t need you swooping in and fixing my problems.”

I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “Do you not feel this too?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “Feel what?”

“This,” I said, gesturing between us. “It’s like we’re magnets. I can’t get you out of my head, and it’s not just physical. I’ve never felt so suited to someone before.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Instead, she closed the gap between us, her lips pressing against mine.

It was like a spark igniting dry kindling. The kiss was hot, desperate, like we’d both been holding back for too long. I cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer as her fingers dug into my shirt. I didn’t care that she was my fake fiancée. Nothing about this heat was fake.

She pulled back first, her breath ragged. “This is a terrible idea,” she whispered.

“Probably,” I agreed, my voice low. “But when have we ever done the smart thing?”

She frowned. “Literally all the time.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Stop overthinking this and fucking kiss me.”

She didn’t hesitate. I kissed her back, pouring every bit of frustration and longing into it. Whatever this was between us, it was real.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel lost. I felt found.