Billionaires Dollar Series

“Not a problem.”

I stand on shaky legs myself, noticing for the first time how much taller Cole is than myself. And the cut of his suit, the lean physique, the powerful shoulders… What have I gotten myself into?

“What do we do now?” I ask.

He shoots me an amused glance. “Well, that depends on you.”

“On me?”

“Yes. I have a room here. If you want to continue our conversation, I’d be happy to. Besides, I have a minibar. I could always mix you another Old-Fashioned if you’re feeling thirsty.”

It’s a straightforward offer disguised as a joke. I laugh, averting my gaze, and use the pause as a chance to think. Do I dare?

His next words seal it for me. “I’m not the asshole you talked to earlier. If you want to leave at any point, you’re very welcome to. If you want us to talk the night away, you say so.” His lips curl into a smile that makes heat pool in my stomach. “Although, I have to say, you don’t seem to have a problem with speaking your mind.”

“I don’t.” I reach for his hand and it wraps strongly around mine. His skin is dry and warm and pleasantly rough. “Lead the way.”

Four weeks later…

“It’s like we’re on death row,” Karli says. “We’re just sitting here, waiting for it to happen. Soon we’ll even have a date for the demolition.”

I climb down the little stepladder and glance over at where she’s standing by the till. Her shoulders are slumped, eyes downcast, looking the way I feel inside. Bleak and hopeless.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“I still can’t accept it,” I say.

“I appreciate your optimism, Skye, I really do… but the letters have made it pretty clear.”

“Miracles happen.”

She smiles at me, but it’s the fond smile of someone indulging a child. “Maybe.”

I move the stepladder from the H-L section to L-P. This bookstore is my life. It’s where I spent most of my afternoons after school growing up, and it’s where I had my first job. First sorting books, at sixteen, before I graduated to handling payment.

And it’s being torn down so someone can build a hotel?

As if Seattle needs another sky-high development for the rich and mighty. This bookstore has been here for decades.

Karli and I had both cried when we received the first letter. The bookstore was on land rented from the city, and they’d sold the entire lot to Porter Development.

Then I’d gotten angry. In the storage room, I’d printed the logo of Porter Development and pinned it to an old dartboard. When I first handed Karli a handful of darts, she’d looked at me like I was crazy.

“You did this?”

“Yes. It’s what people do in movies, so there must be some truth to it. Go ahead and throw?” She’d shaken her head at me, but we’d both had our turn, and in the end we’d felt a tiny bit better to see the slick logo skewered by darts.

It’s midday, and the bookstore is empty, like it is most days. And most evenings, if I’m being painfully honest with myself.

Karli calls out again. “Did you shelve the delivery of new contemporary romances?”

“Yes!” I call back. “And I saw your choice for ‘recommended by the bookstore’!”

She laughs. “Did you see how the story started? The main characters have a super-steamy one-night stand…”

“I can’t hear you!”

“Liar!”

I roll my eyes and keep shelving the fantasy tomes. Ever since I told Karli about the night at the hotel with Cole, she’s been finding ways to bring it up.

You end early tonight, she’ll quip. Maybe you should go back to the Legacy?

I shouldn’t have told her about him-but then, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, and eventually all the details spilled out of me on their own accord.

His strong hands. The crooked smile. The banter, the back-and-forth, the laughter. He’d been far, far out of my league, but for one night, we’d been equals.

The entire night felt like it belonged to someone else, to a girl in one of those romance books, rather than me, Skye Holland. Aspiring (read: failed) writer. Bookstore clerk (read: soon unemployed). Twenty-five years old, renting a too-small apartment, and without a date in months.

The Skye I’d been with Cole was someone else. She was witty and brave. She said things like you’re hitting on me without batting an eye. And she said yes when attractive, mysterious men invited her to their hotel rooms.

My cheeks flame as I think about it, but I don’t stop the train of thought. Thinking about that night has been all that’s kept me going since we heard about the bookstore’s fate.

We’d talked for an hour on his bed before he even touched me, and when he did, to smooth my hair back behind my ear, I’d shivered from anticipation and excitement.

“You’re unexpected,” he’d said darkly. “I had no idea someone like you would be here tonight.”

I’d smiled. “Are you ever going to kiss me?”

And then he did, and showed me exactly why I shouldn’t have been nervous about this. It was sex, but with a capital S, the kind I’d always wanted but never really had. There was no fumbling or awkwardness. He told me exactly what he wanted from me, and asked me what I liked in return.

And then he gave it to me.

I pick up another stack of fantasy epics and shelve them on autopilot, my mind stuck on the several orgasms he gave me. How? I’d been in a two-year relationship in college and I’d only climaxed twice with the guy. Cole had managed it in one night.

It had been deep, and hard, and animalistic, his body moving over mine like he needed me more than life itself. Three times we did it, his body relentless, before both of us passed out cold in his giant hotel bed.

“You’re fantastic,” he’d murmured after the last time, his arm slung casually over my naked waist. “Am I going to be in one of your books now?”

“Maybe,” I’d said, reaching out to tentatively run a hand through his thick brown hair. “Although I’m not sure I’d do you justice.”

But he was already asleep, and I had followed him soon thereafter.

Perfection-it had been perfection.

And since I’d been unable to keep my excitement to myself and told Karli, she brought it up all the time. Nearly every day for four weeks I’d heard about it. Why would today be any different?

“I just can’t believe you didn’t give him your number,” she says over lunch. We should take them in shifts, but there are no customers, so we eat our sushi by the checkout counter together.

“It would have spoiled it.”