Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1) (46 page)

I steeled my features and rounded my desk, leaning into the edge of it with the calm of a man who wasn’t mere seconds away from coming out of his skin.

“Good, you’re here.”

Thatch slammed the door behind her and held it shut. Unable to resist, she ran to it, testing the effectiveness of all of his muscles with three sharp tugs. He didn’t budge, one hand on the knob and the other still free to throw her a jaunty wave and a smile through the window.

She growled as she turned to me, stomping her foot in the most adorable way, and then made every effort to kill me with her eyes.

I put everything I had into not smiling and glanced at my watch.

It almost worked.

“And for the first time in your life, you’re on time.”

She pinched her eyebrows together in question and didn’t do it lightly. There was real anger there, harnessed between them. She was
raging,
and every single piece of her wanted me to know it.

I nodded to the tattered remnants of the contract, another victim of her wrath, clutched in her hand. “The meeting at ten?” I explained with the lilt of a question. “It was all outlined in the contract.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “The fucking contract. What kind of a sick fuck does something as mentally unstable as this? Your company?! The whole motherfucking company,” she shouted and rambled. “An insane person. You’ve obviously lost all your marbles. Maybe
Walter
stole them, I don’t fucking know.”

She shook her head, her wild
brown
hair cascading and swinging and reeling me the fuck in. A handful of days without her, and she’d dyed it again.

She sure was something.

“What I do know is that if the meeting is at ten—” she glanced at her watch “—and it’s nine fifty-nine, that makes me
early
.”

I bit my lip and pressed my palms into the top of the desk to keep me there.

Her eyes shot to mine at the jagged sound of my whisper. “I’m so sorry, Benny.”

Her slender throat jerked with a forced swallow.

“I know I fucked it all up,” I admitted, working the edge of my tooth into my bottom lip to keep the pace of my words in check. I wanted to race and ramble like her, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any favors.

“But I’m begging you to listen. Watch. Take it all in.”

She shook her head and clenched her hands into fists.

“You don’t have to change your mind,” I offered—a desperate man clinging to whatever scraps he could get. “I want you to.” I closed my eyes and prayed as I spoke. “God, Georgie, I want you to.” When I opened them again, done with wasting any opportunity to see her, I made sure I didn’t even blink. “But all you have to do is this. Be here for a few measly minutes. At least I’ll get to fucking look at you. After that, you’re free to go.”

I
shook my head, staring at the ground. I needed a reprieve from the havoc that pleading look on his face was doing to me.

“Please, baby, just five minutes of your time.”

Immediately, I looked up, glaring at him. “Do
not
call me that.”

He lifted both hands in the air. “I’m sorry, Benny.”

I cringed. He knew what he was doing, the clever bastard, and that wasn’t much better.

“Yeah,” I spat. “Me fucking too. I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

His face looked pained, but he quickly pushed the emotion down, forcing a soft smile onto his handsome lips instead. “Just fifteen minutes and then you’re free to go. I promise.”

“Promise?” I scoffed. “I’ve heard your promises. They’re about as empty as my pathetic heart.”

He couldn’t hide that pain, couldn’t push it down like he had before. His eyes creased at the corners, his lips mashed in a tight line. My chest ached as I watched him inhale a shaky breath.

I knew I wasn’t being nice and I should have stopped, but I couldn’t help myself. Awful words just kept flowing past my lips. Deep down, I wanted to throw knives his way until one of them stuck, cutting him as deep as he cut me.

“I know you’re mad and you have every right to be.” His voice was calm and composed and it only pissed me off more.

“I don’t understand what this is going to help,” I spat. “There is nothing you can show me that will change my mind, that will make me trust you again.”

He ignored the tight lines of my body language—back stiff, fists clenched at my sides—and guided me to a chair. He gripped my shoulders, urging me to sit down. “Just a few more minutes of your time, Georgia. That’s all I’m asking.”

I sat, but I didn’t want to sit. I wanted to be anywhere else but in that room with him. The simple touch of his fingers on my shoulders, his voice, soft and caressing near my ear, and those blue eyes, fucking slaying me with their pleading intensity—it was too much.

My heart was a rubber band and Kline was pulling too hard. Another glance into his saddened gaze, another tug on my emotions, and it would snap. I would end up doing something I regretted. And I’d be left with nothing.

Screw that
. I wasn’t going to be convinced. There was no amount of begging and pleading and lines of bullshit that would get me to change my mind. I’d stay strong. I’d watch whatever he wanted me to watch, and then I would leave. We’d both have closure that way.

Once this was over, I was going to be out of that door faster than I’d barged in.

He fiddled with his laptop until the projection screen came to life. I huffed.

Did he really have to make it this dramatic? I could have just watched it, whatever it was, on my laptop—even my phone.

He stood behind me, hands on my shoulders again, and lips near my ear. “I’ve only lied to you twice. The first time was when I didn’t tell you I knew you were Rose.”

My head jerked to look at him in surprise and disbelief, a nasty rebuttal on the tip of my tongue, but on the way around, my eyes caught on the video playing on the screen.

Security footage.

It took a minute to recognize the location, but it was Brooks Media’s Human Resources. Cynthia’s office, to be exact. My brows rose when a crazy person dressed in muddy clothes burst through her doors. He scanned the room until he found what he was searching for. In three quick strides, he was at her filing cabinet, yanking open the drawer and fingers sliding through the files.

The messy hair. The taut, tight muscles of his back, stretching and flexing. And that ass covered in shorts. I knew that body.

My breath caught in my lungs when the camera zoomed in, moving past his face quickly, but not too quick that I didn’t recognize the jawline, especially the way it looked before he shaved, covered deliciously with two days’ worth of growth.

It was Kline.

My mind tripped into realization that he was filthy and sweaty because he had come from rugby practice. Which also explained why no one else was in the office.

But why was he rummaging through Cynthia’s files?

More importantly, why did I need to see this?

I caught sight of the timestamp in the corner. I counted the days in my head. It was a few days after our second date, where he had convinced me to go skinny-dipping at ONE UN. It was nearly eight-thirty in the evening and he was going through one of his employee’s offices like a lunatic.

The camera zoomed closer, showing the file in his hands. I couldn’t read the label on the edge quick enough before Kline was opening it, his finger tracing down the list of employees names.

The camera zoomed in again, blurry for a second before giving me a clear view. I watched his finger pause on one name.

Cummings, Georgia.

Then it slid across the page and came to a dead stop.

TAPRoseNEXT.

Adrenaline took over. My heart thrashed inside my chest as it furiously pumped the rush through my veins.

He knew.

He knew.

He knew.

It was the only thing my brain could compute.

He was in front of me, squatting down so we were at eye level. “The only other lie I’ve told you is that I liked you when I knew I was already in love with you.”

My vision blurred, an unnamed emotion filling my lids.

Shock? Happiness? Relief?
Love?
I wasn’t sure which. I was too overwhelmed.

But my heart, my heart knew what it wanted. It was on an escape mission, frantically trying to pound its way out of my chest, begging to return home.

I blinked, once, twice, three times. The room was clear again, and those blue eyes of his, they were staring at me, intense and pleading and so damn full of love I felt it bursting out of him and into me.

He’d known I was Rose. He had known since a few days after our second date.

Which meant, when he had messaged Cassie, he’d thought he was messaging me.

“W-why didn’t you tell me?” I stuttered past the thickness in my throat.

His hand found mine, fingers entwining. “I should’ve told you. I know I should’ve told you, but I loved how open you were with me as Rose. I loved how you never held anything back. You were never afraid to tell me what you were thinking or how you felt.”

He
would
think that. For the love of Christmas, we’d had a conversation about anal!

“I didn’t want to lose that side of you until you were comfortable enough to be that way with me.” A heavy sigh left his lips. “When I sent that last message, I thought I was sending it to
you
. I wanted to be open and honest with
you
.”

He kissed my hand and then moved it to his chest. “This is yours. It’ll always be yours.” A frantic, erratic beat vibrated against my palm. “Please, tell me I haven’t lost you for good.”

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to smile wider than my cheeks would allow. I wanted to jump into his arms and never let go.

But I was scared. The remnants of the past few days had left a scar across my heart. I never wanted to feel like that again. I never wanted to feel so fucking lost.

“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes staring into mine, deep and unrelenting. “I love you so much. Please tell me you feel the same.”

No longer broken, his words stitched up that last remaining bit of my heart.

“Baby, say something.” His voice cracked, desperation highlighting the edges. “Please, say something. Anything. Except for no. Anything but no.”

God, he looked broken and defeated. I hated it. I didn’t want him to be so sad, so anxious. I wanted him to laugh and smile and be the happy, charming, adorable Kline I had fallen in love with.

“You broke into my company?” I blurted out, trying to take him—take us—back to that place.

He paused, eyes searching mine. “Your company?”

I tilted my head, trying my damnedest to hold back a smile. “You wanted me to sign the contract, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I did.” His eyes lit up, mouth quirking up at the corner. “But I want you to sign another contract too.”

“What?”

He slid a small, black box from his pocket and went down on one knee.

My hand covered my mouth. “W-what are you doing?”

“You know what I’m doing.” He gazed up at me, grinning. “Georgia, you are the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I knew it from the second you came barreling into my world with your rap lyrics and swollen lips and cute smiles and beautiful laughter. I knew the night of our first date, when you were buzzing on antihistamine and beatboxing about my huge cock, that you were the only woman I wanted. The only person that could make me happy for the rest of my life.”

“I
beatboxed?”

His grin grew wider. “Yeah, baby, you fucking beatboxed. It’s one of my fondest memories.”

My cheeks heated. There was no doubt in my mind, beatboxing took the cake over Masturbation Camp.

“God, you’re so fucking adorable. I can’t stand it.” He laughed softly, fingers brushing across my cheek. “I can’t let you go. I want you, with me, forever. My heart in your hands and you in my arms, that’s all I’ll ever need.” He repeated the words he’d tattooed across my hip. “I said that then because I meant it, and I still mean it now.”

Happiness and relief and love, so much love, it bubbled up past my throat and urged tears to spill past my lids. And when I smiled, I tasted the saltiness on my lips.