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“What’s your problem?”
I looked over to find Tony staring at me in confusion.
Not wanting to admit I’d slept with the man in an alley the night before, I said, “He scared me.”
He had.
Twice, actually. Pretty bad, if I was allowing myself to admit to it.
Though the first one had turned out a whole lot better than the second. I might have a different opinion right now had I had the same happy ending this morning.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to,” Tony muttered, looking cross with me. “Sit down, you’re embarrassing me.”
I rolled my eyes and sat down, very much aware that I was in a sports bra and short shorts—almost the identical outfit in a different color as the one I was wearing last night. I was also more than aware of the fold of fat that rolled over the top of my pants that I couldn’t control.
I had a uterus, dammit!
I scooted up to the table to hide it from him.
He noticed the move and narrowed his eyes.
I also realized that by sitting down in the only empty seat, I was a lot closer to him than I wanted to be.
The only thing that was stopping us from touching was the corner’s thick table leg.
I looked away and started flipping through my papers.
“Tell me what you think is going on,” Winston—geez what kind of stuck up name was Winston?—ordered.
I wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but the thought of his name had me wanting to look up everything I could about him.
So I pulled out my phone and started googling.
Winston Cyrus Osborn, forty-two, was a billionaire. A billionaire. With a big fat B.
He looked it.
Not forty-two, but a billionaire.
He was in a well-fitting suit that had a zero percent chance of it not being custom fitted. I mean, damn, the man fit that suit so well that it showed off every single attribute he had.
I mean, damn!
If you looked at the length of his pants, they showed off just a hint of his expensive looking socks where his leg was crossed over the other.
And then there was the fit at the waist.
I had been more than aware the man was fit yesterday—I mean a physically fit man could hold a person up. But not for that long without sounding like he was struggling to do it.
And there had been no exhaustion in Winston’s voice as he spoke dirty words directly into my ear in that alley.
He had a flat belly. As in, not even a hint of a roll. Not even when he was sitting down.
His chest was thick and well-defined, and the way his tailored long-sleeved shirt hung open at the collar meant that I could see just the smallest hint of chest hair and muscle.
His shoulders were wide and well-defined, and yes, I could tell even through the perfectly fitted suit.
But my gaze kept going to one spot in particular.
Thankfully with the way he was sitting, it meant that I could see that particular spot that held so much of my attention.
He shifted in his seat, and I realized I was staring.
I turned back to my phone.
Winston was a third.
His father, Winston Junior, and his mother, Deborah, were married for twelve years before they started having kids. Winston had a sister—Katrin. A brother—Bellamy.
He had a master’s in business that he’d gotten from a well-to-do college I probably should’ve heard of before, but hadn’t.
I skipped down lower onto the page.
His blood type was O-negative.
Rare. But not as rare as mine.
I had what was known as ‘golden blood.’ Pretty much, I had an Rh-null blood type. That meant that I was one of forty-three people in the world who had it.
My sisters once joked it was because my mom and dad had been related—that was why I had it. But ultimately, my mother and father weren’t related. Not even close—I would know, I ran a DNA test on myself when I was sixteen because they hadn’t stopped teasing me about it.
Side note, but sisters were awesome…not.
Like now.
“Are you even listening, Crimson Eurie?”
I looked up at Val and narrowed my eyes. “Stop using my full name.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Well, maybe if you acted like an adult and paid attention, I wouldn’t have to.”
I gritted my teeth and said, “Why don’t you go fuck yourself.”
And that was how all of our arguments started.
It never failed, at least one of us started something when we were all together. Guess today it was mine and Val’s turn.
I also knew she knew that something had happened with Winston and me.
I mean, you didn’t spend the last ten years of your life trying to make people think you could predict the future without picking up a few attributes that helped you pretend.
Meaning, my sister was very good at reading people. She was even better at reading her sisters.
