Billionaires Dollar Series

And he carries that on his shoulders every minute of every day.

My eyes glance down to the ring on my left finger. He’d forgotten to ask for it back for safekeeping after we said goodbye outside the hotel, and I’d forgotten to give it to him.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

It winks at me under my kitchen light, a brilliant piece of magic amidst the mundane.

The memory of his hand on my left one, guiding it between my legs as he touched my engagement ring.

Touch yourself with this hand.

And he’d watched as I’d done it.

My body heats up at the memory. One night with Liam Carter, playboy extraordinaire and suave investor.

And a night with green-eyed Liam, the boy I’d had a crush on my entire childhood. I reach for my phone and don’t think, don’t consider, before I write him a text.

Madison: I think I might go into the fake fiancé business. If I do, can I count on your recommendation?

His response is almost instantaneous, the dots appearing before I’ve put my phone down.

Liam: No, you’re a trade secret. I can’t have you booked up for months.

Madison: Oh? Does this mean you’re considering seeking my services again?

Liam: Given how brilliant having you by my side has been for business these past few weeks, I just might.

Madison: If my restaurant dreams fail, I think I have a future in fake relationships.

Liam: As if, though. I still think about the duck you made.

Madison: You do?

Liam: Do you want to know what I had for lunch today?

Madison: I’m riveted.

Liam: The ham and cheese sandwich from the deli on my street. Like I had yesterday. And the day before that. And every other day, actually, this month.

Madison: Please tell me you’re kidding right now.

Liam: I’m dead serious.

Madison: There is so SO MUCH good food in Seattle! How??

Liam: Time is money, and money can get you home-delivered burgers and sandwiches to eat while you work.

Madison: Excuse me while I faint in horror.

Liam: Have I found the one surefire way to insult a chef?

Madison: That, and telling me I use too much tarragon. I don’t use too much tarragon.

Liam: You will never hear that from me.

Madison: Every day, Liam? Every day?

Liam: Every day.

Madison: Dear Lord, don’t tell me you do the same thing for dinner too.

Liam: Would you cut contact with me if I said yes to that question?

Madison: I’m considering it, yeah.

Liam: You know what this means.

Madison: That you’re suffering from high cholesterol?

Liam: Funny. No, it means you should take pity on me and come over to use my kitchen again. It’s been feeling lonely since you left.

Madison: No, not the stainless kitchen! Not the six-plate stove!

Liam: The very one. It was weeping the other day. I had to get a plumber to come and look at the sink.

Madison: As it so happens, I am free tonight, and I still have to perfect my recipes.

Liam: Just my luck.

Madison: I warn you, though. I cook best when I have company in the kitchen.

Liam: That can be arranged. You look hot when you’re wielding a knife.

Madison: That’s a dangerous fetish there, Carter. Sure you don’t need to talk to someone?

Liam: No. I just need you in an apron, and nothing else, chopping carrots.

Madison: Carrots? I think Freud would have a field day with that. Any more weird fantasies you want to share?

Liam: Look, I’m committing to the idea of giving you really fucking interesting sex, and I’m committing hard.

Madison: Wow. Your commitment is noted and appreciated.

Liam: Thank you.

Madison: I’ll come over in a bit, then. You’re not allergic to anything, are you?

Liam: Mediocrity. But food-wise, no.

Madison: Remind me why we ever stopped being friends?