Billionaire With Benefits: Make Her Mine-Book 2

by Winter, Alexis

  A giggle slips past my lips from hearing my full name. “Fine.” I push myself up, pacing the floor. “Everything was going good. We’d been spending every day together, sleeping with one another, touching, kissing, flirting. I never had that freak-out moment, you know? Like usually, I’d wake up the next morning and freak the fuck out because I’d fallen asleep and stayed the whole night. I’d break my neck trying to get out of there. But with Bennet, I didn’t have anywhere to go. My apartment was gone. And he just made me feel so comfortable. We both agreed that we’d each have our own lives. But the more time I spent with him, the more I found myself falling for him. And then that stupid picture leaked, and everything went up in flames. I couldn’t stand to look around the office because everyone was looking at me, whispering and giggling. And his dad,” I roll my eyes. “He’s pissed. He’s afraid that it will tarnish his company or something. He told Bennet to fire me, to pay me off or shut me up somehow.”

  “What?” she asks, surprised.

  I nod. “He wouldn’t though. I told him he didn’t have to because I quit. I mean, no way could I go back to working there after all this.”

  “Then what’s the problem? He can keep his job, you can get a new one, and you guys can be together.” She holds her hands in the air, palms facing the sky.

  I shake my head as tears begin to fall freely. “I love him,” I cry out.

  She stands and rushes up to me, placing her hands on my biceps. “That’s a good thing, Mads.”

  “We agreed to keep things simple, and then things started to change. He wants to get married. He wants kids.” I sit back down on my pillow and pick up the bottle of wine.

  She lets out a deep breath. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Besides the fact that I’ve never in my life wanted marriage and kids?” I state the obvious. “He didn’t ever want that either. He’s saying this stuff to get me to stay. But I’m not going to give him something neither of us wants. I’m not going to be tied down, raising his kids only for him to realize in ten years that he never wanted that life. He will end up resenting me, probably cheating on me and leaving me with a life that I never wanted either.” I lean my head against the wall and take another swig.

  Jazz walks over and sits at my side. “So, what’s the plan?”

  I shrug. “I’m going to focus on me. I’m going to find a new job, furnish this place, and do what I was doing before I met him.”

  She snorts. “So, sleeping around? Never having any meaningful relationship? Being alone?”

  I look up, and my eyes meet hers, but I can’t answer her questions. Instead of talking, I resort to drinking my nasty wine.

  After a long pause, she finally stands and heads for the door. “You know,” she says, spinning around to face me. “All you’re doing right now is pulling away because you’re feeling something you’ve never felt before. You’re scared. And that’s fine. I was scared too. But you can’t push this away. If you do, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. I’ve never known you to run away before. Don’t start now, Maddie.” Without another word, she turns and leaves.

  When I hear the door click behind her, I set my bottle down and curl up into a ball on the floor. My eyes drift closed, and I pray that sleep takes me, but it doesn’t. All I can see is him—his sparkling green eyes, his tan, toned biceps as he held me against the wall, the way his lips always curled up at the corners after he kissed me. I can feel his lips on mine, how soft and strong they were. I can smell his deep, rich scent.

  Tears fill my eyes, finally flooding over and streaming down my cheeks. I know that Jazz is right; I shouldn’t push this away. But I’m too afraid of the what-ifs. What if I do marry him? Will he end up hating me when he realizes that he never wanted marriage? What if I do have his children? Will we be happy? What if, in the end, we still end up breaking up? Will all the time between now and then be a total waste?

  How do people do it? How can they just trust another person wholeheartedly? Trust them to love them forever, to support them, to be there through thick and thin, in the most important times? I’ve never met another person I could trust that much, not even Jazz. Jazz is my best friend, but even that doesn’t mean that she’ll always be able to be there for me. She’s about to be a mom, and I know that baby will come before everything—as it should. But if I can’t even trust her—a person I’ve known my whole life— to always be there, how can I trust a man I’ve just met?

  Eventually, sleep finds me, and I give in, letting it take me to avoid facing the pain and confusion I feel.

  When I wake, I refuse to let myself think of anything but the task at hand. I shower, dress, and get ready for the day. When that’s done, I lock up the apartment and head out, needing to buy basically everything for my apartment and look for a job.

  I go to several stores and order the basic furniture I’ll need: a couch, a bed, a couple tables, and lamps. Then, I head to Target to grab dishes, silverware, some towels, and necessities. After dropping everything off at home with the promise to myself that I’ll put it up later, I head out for some coffee. While sitting at the table alone, I use my phone to find jobs and put in applications. My head is completely in the moment, only focusing on filling out my application, but then I get a whiff of familiar cologne, and my head jerks up, looking for Bennet. I scan every face around me, never finding him, only a man that’s sitting directly behind me. I shake my head, wanting to clear it of the thoughts that have been threatening to cripple me all day. When thoughts of Bennet start popping in my head, I decide that it’s time to get busy. I can’t sit here any longer. I have to move, keep myself occupied. I slide my phone into my pocket and pick up my cup, heading for the door in a rush. I need the cool air to clear my head. I’m practically running when I bump into someone.

  “Whoa,” he says, reaching out and steadying me as I begin to topple backward.

  I look up and find a good-looking man holding me. He has dark brown eyes, a dark scruff growing on his jaw, and his face is perfectly chiseled.

  “I’m so sorry. I should probably slow down.” I manage to stand upright, and he releases me.

  “That’s okay. I’m Tony.” He holds out his hand.

  I slide mine into his. “I’m Maddie.”

  He smiles, and my heart starts to pound. “Would you like to sit and have a cup of coffee with me?” He motions toward an empty table.

  I look at him, the table, and back. I open my mouth to decline.

  “On me,” he tries. “I’ll even throw in a muffin. You look like a blueberry girl.”

  I laugh and nod. “I am,” I agree.

  He smiles wide and holds his arm out in front of me. I turn and walk up to the counter with him following along behind me.

  Tony and I sit next to the window, drinking our coffee, talking, and watching the day pass us by. When the sun starts to go down, he offers to keep our moment going by taking me out to dinner. Something inside of me wants to decline, but I force myself to go. Not only will it keep my mind off Bennet, but it’s also free dinner.

  As we walk down the busy street, he picks up where we left off. “So, you said you’re between jobs?”

  I nod. “I am. I was in data configuration at Windsor Wealth Management.”

  His eyes grow wide. “Wow. That’s pretty impressive. Why’d you leave, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  I take a deep breath. “It wasn’t the right work environment.”

  “I completely understand. I used to work for a big business like that. It’s very stressful.”

  “Where do you work?” I ask, wanting to get the attention off me.

  “This new place downtown called Striker Inc. And you know, now that you mention it, we’re hiring a whole team of people. It’s still a small company, but it’s a good job. You should turn in an application.”

  I smile. “Thanks, I’ll look into it.”

  We head into a Chinese restaurant and get seated. We both order, and as we talk about movies, music, and
books, something inside of me feels weird. I don’t want to be here. I want to force myself to get over Bennet, but at the same time, I don’t want to forget how he made me feel. Being with him was exciting and fun; it was passion and adventure—I never knew where we’d end up. He opened my eyes to so many new things: boxing, racing, a world of privilege I didn’t know anything about. And even though we weren’t meant to get serious, he always showed respect for me and how much he cared.

  I let out a deep sigh and pick up my glass of wine, swallowing it all in one gulp.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, standing. “I should probably go.”

  “Did I do something?” he asks.

  “No, not at all,” I say. “I just got out of a tough relationship, and this,” I motion toward him, me, and the table, “it’s just too much.”

  He nods. “I completely understand.” He opens his wallet and tosses some cash on the table. “Let me walk you back.”

  “Really?” I ask. He’s being so great about it all.

  “Of course. I’ve been exactly where you are. Don’t worry about this.” He places his hand on my lower back and leads me from the restaurant.

  Neither of us say anything as we walk back down the street toward the coffee shop. When we come to a stop in front of the building, he looks over at me. “Do you live far from here?”

  I shake my head. “Just around the corner. Thank you for today. You were great.”

  “How long have you been broken up?” he asks, looking at me from beneath his lashes.

  “Yesterday,” I breathe out.

  His eyes double in size. “Oh, wow. I thought you were going to say a couple months or something.” He lets out a nervous laugh as he slides his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a card. “This is my number. I’m not saying you have to use it tomorrow or next month even, but I’d really like to get to know you better.”

  I reach out and take it. “Okay, thank you.” I smile as I look down at the card that reads Stryker Inc. Tony Striker, CEO. I want to laugh. What are the chances I’d run into a good-looking guy, almost want to start something up with him, and have him be in a position of power? No way will I be filling out that application.

  I slide the card into my pocket, and when I look up, he’s leaning in. His hand cups my cheek, and his lips meet mine. I freeze, not knowing what to do. Should I kiss him back? I did have a good time with him today. Should I pull away?

  My eyes flutter closed and try to feel something. I wait for the usual tingle that takes over, but there’s nothing. Nothing but warm lips pressing against mine.

  I place my hand on his chest and step back. “I’m sorry. I should go.” Without another word, I rush past him, down to the end of the street, and around the corner. The second I’m no longer in his view, the sobs break free. It’s now very obvious that I can’t run from my feelings for Bennet. I can’t make myself forget or ignore them. I can’t trick myself into using those feelings for anyone else. There is no easy way of getting over someone you’ve fallen in love with. I think the only thing that will make things any different is time. I need to avoid men at all costs, focus on myself, and hopefully, as time passes, I’ll love him a little less. Until the day comes that I have my old life back.

  When I get up to my new apartment, I let myself in and go directly to the bathtub. I fill it full and sink into the warm water. I lean my head back and close my eyes. I have been refusing to think of him, but now, I welcome the thoughts. I think about training with him and watching the way his muscles flexed. I think about the time we went for a swim and ended up soaking wet in his bed. I think about secret meetings we had in his office. My body comes alive, burning with anticipation. Then, I think of that kiss with Tony. The way his soft lips touched mine, the way his tongue demanded entrance, and the way I felt nothing.

  My eyes pop open. “Fuck,” I cry out.

  There’s no denying that I’m in love with Bennet. The only question is: will I get over him? Do I want to? Will my life be better or worse without him?

  Without a doubt, I know that not having him in my life will be the worst decision I could make. Starting something up with my boss wasn’t my biggest mistake; leaving him alone in bed was. I am scared of what the future could have in store for us, but I’m even more afraid of always wondering instead of just finding out. Bennet is where my heart is. Bennet is my future.

  I quickly jump out of the tub and race to put my clothes on. I grab my purse and keys and run down to the street where I hail a cab. The whole way over, I’m a nervous wreck. My heart is pounding, and my lungs are begging for oxygen. My legs won’t hold still; they just bounce up and down the whole way. Finally, the cab pulls up to his house, and the gate is open. Instead of having the cab take me all the way to the door, I get out at the gate and hand over the cash.

  On the walk up the drive, a million things fill my head. What if he’s changed his mind? What if he doesn’t want me anymore? What if I fucked up everything?

  I walk up to the door and knock a few times, bouncing from foot to foot. Just when I’m about to turn around, the door opens. My eyes jump up, expecting to land on Bennet, but there’s a woman instead. My first instinct is she must be a new maid, but she’s not in uniform. She’s wearing a pair of skin-tight jeans with black pumps. Her white t-shirt is ripped and torn, hanging off her shoulder and showing way too much cleavage. The shirt is tight and ends up above her bellybutton. Her dark hair, long and flowing around her, and her makeup is done perfectly.

  Bennet must have done what I asked. He went back to his office in the sky and taking home different women every night. I’m glad to see that he doesn’t waste time.

  “Can I help you?” she asks.

  I shake my head as I back away. “I’m sorry. Wrong house,” I mumble, turning and running down the driveway. Tears fill my eyes until I can’t see clearly. I fucked up. I got scared and pushed him away. I lost him. I’m going to be alone forever, and it’s all my fault.

  18

  Bennet

  I wake in the morning feeling like shit. My head is pounding, and my stomach is rolling. I think back on yesterday, remembering running into Maddie. I remember the way my heart broke when she said she didn’t want me. I remember the emptiness I felt when she said those words. The last thing I remember was having lunch with that waitress, the way she openly flirted with me, and how every word she said was the exact opposite of what Maddie would say. Instead of being able to use her to replace Maddie, all she did was scream I’m not Maddie. I couldn’t go forward with my plan. I paid for our lunch and left alone, deciding that I needed to come home where people couldn’t see how big of a mess I was.

  Based on the empty bottle of scotch in the bed beside me, my best guess is that I drank myself into a coma. I look at my watch and see that it’s going on noon. I reach for my phone on the bedside table, but it isn’t there. Probably for the best. I’m sure it’s filled with missed calls from my father by now.

  I force myself to stand and walk to the shower, only having to stop and empty my stomach once on the way. I collapse into the bottom of the shower and just sit there, letting the hot water wash over me. I can’t think of anything but how shitty I feel and why I feel this way. I don’t blame the scotch. I blame Maddie. She gave me something I never knew I needed. And then, she just ripped it away.

  My head pounds and my stomach churns. My chest is filled with pain, and my head, my head is a mess of fucked up thoughts of what I should’ve done, should’ve said to stop her from leaving me. I lean my head back against the wall and let the heat soak into my body. I feel like I’m on fire between the hot water and the heat of my anger. I feel like I’m burning up from the inside out.

  A part of me wants to be mad at Maddie. I try telling myself that she did this to me on purpose, that she used me. But deep down, I know that isn’t true. Which emotion is better: heartbreak or anger? Either way, they’re nothing compared to love and happiness—something I know I will never feel again.

&n
bsp; When I finally manage to get myself off the shower floor, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and drape my towel around my shoulders while I go looking for my phone. I open my bedroom door and there it lies, screen shattered, in the hallway. Shards of thin glass pepper the hardwood floor around it. I grab it, and to my surprise, it turns on. I see fourteen missed calls from my mom, dad, and sister. But none from her. I swipe the screen and the picture before my eyes takes my breath away. It’s a picture I snapped of Maddie from that night—the night she left me. Her eyes are closed, her lips in a pout. Her dark hair is fanned out around her.

  I can tell that I was looking at this picture when I got pissed and smashed my phone. A pain slices through my heart, and I shake the loose glass from the phone before sliding into my pocket as I make my way down the stairs for coffee. As I’m pouring a cup, I hear my front door open and slam shut, causing me to jump and spill the coffee.

  I spin around to see my sister, Val, running into the kitchen. She’s breathless, and her eyes are wide. “Where the fuck have you been?”

  “Here,” I answer, turning back to my coffee.

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  I pull it out of my pocket and slide it across the countertop. “Just found it,” I say, taking a sip and grabbing a towel to soak up the mess I made.

  I walk around the counter, intending on going into my home office, but she stops me.

  “Bennet, Dad had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital, and we don’t know if he’s going to make it,” she says.

  I stop dead in my tracks and turn around. “What? When?”

  “He was in your office last night, alone. We don’t know what time it happened, but your sectary found him this morning. We have to go to the hospital.”

  “Give me five minutes.” I place the coffee on the counter and run to get dressed.

  My sister drives us both to the hospital and leads me up to his room. The second we walk in, Mom stands and rushes up to me.