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The man doesn’t discriminate—I’ll give him that.
“Is he going to keep staring at us?” Thad whispers.
I glance over my shoulder and my eyes slam into Hansley’s. His gorgeous lips curl into a scowl. Brawny arms fold over his chest.
I dig my hands into the pockets of his coat, feeling small, fragile and cared for.
I thought I knew Hansley.
I really did.
An hour scrolling someone’s social media and Wikipedia page is more than enough to tell what kind of person they are.
But I was off.
Way off.
Yes, he’s a billionaire.
I saw it when we jumped the line a minute ago.
I feel it now that we’re sitting here in this private, lavish section of the restaurant being waited on hand and foot.
But Hansley’s more than that.
He’s… different.
Asia, you might have misjudged this guy.
Dang it.
I hate being wrong.
Hansley arches an eyebrow, his square jaw hitting the light. It looks like the perfect angle for a picture. Hell, every move he makes looks perfect for a picture.
I’ve yet to find a bad angle.
He mouths at me, “Ready to go?”
“I just got here.”
He frowns like a kid eager to get out of school. “So?”
“Ehem.” Thad clears his throat. “Asia.”
I startle.
Thad leans in close and whispers, “Something’s wrong with this guy. Blink twice if you’ve been kidnapped.”
A low growl starts from the other table. My eyes flit there and I find Hansley glaring at Thad’s hand on mine.
My ex pretends not to have heard, but he backs away a moment later with fearful eyes.
I shoot Hansley a dark look.
He returns it in full.
To his credit, he did show some self-restraint. Instead of parking himself at our table—the way I fully expected him to, Hansley gave us a bit of space.
