The Hated Billionaire by Erica Frost

Chapter 14: Christina

I looked out of the window. I couldn’t quite believe it. It was Sunday morning and I was waiting for Brett to come and fetch me. He had said he would come by after breakfast. I was thinking of him, still amazed about what had happened and how he felt.

We had such a lovely day together the previous day – he’d left at two o’ clock, and promised to return to see me the next morning. I stared out over the city – for once, the road was quiet, only the odd car moving up the asphalt, the sound of the exhaust lost over the long distance up. Pale white clouds floated over the skyline; the sky touched with yellow. The scene was joyful, like the feeling in my heart.

“He really seems happy to be seeing me.”

I smiled to myself. It was so weird. I would never have thought someone like Brett would like me – actually, I think the point was that I hadn’t thought Brett would like anybody. He seemed so distant, so rude, if I was honest. And he’d not really spoken well to me in the past. I made a note to ask him about that.

I felt another grin wash over me. I was too happy to feel cross with him about how he had acted with me. I was too uplifted to really mind for now. I put away the dishes and went and checked what I looked like. I had chosen jeans and a coal-colored blouse in silk again – not quite black, but near enough to make my hair look brown and shiny. I had left it loose, liking the way it framed my oval face. I heard the doorbell and ran to answer.

“Hi, Christina!” Brett greeted me. I grinned and pressed the button, waiting for him to arrive.

He came upstairs and I grinned as he wrapped his arms around me. It felt safe and good to hold him and feel his strong arms tight around me. He was wearing a casual shirt and jeans and a coat and he smelled like cologne and I held him against me hard.

“Good morning,” I whispered.

He grinned. “It is now. It is a warm day, you’re right,” he added when he stepped back. “A proper summery day. But you know…we can go to the park later.” His eyes twinkled and he rested a hand on my shoulder in a way that left me no doubt as to what he meant.

I chuckled. “I also reckon it can wait. The park’s not going anywhere, and there’s something I want more.” My cheeks went bright red. Was I really saying this?”

“Me, too.”

We went to my room and made love. This time, we were slow and gentle and it felt beautiful but also natural, getting used to each other. I smiled up at him, my eyes focused on him from where I lay beside him. He was leaning on the headboard. He turned to look at me.

“I hope you know that you’re gorgeous.”

I smiled. “Not really…I suppose nobody knows what they look like.”

He laughed. “I know I’m gorgeous.”

I pushed him, a big grin spreading across my face. “Well! You are, but you seem to know that already.” I smiled up at him playfully.

“So, you should too.” He kissed me.

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close as I thought about that. I hadn’t been raised to think well of myself – anything but. The things that were said about me – loudly and forcefully – were anything but that I was gorgeous. I held tightly onto Brett, making my mind stay in this moment, where someone said lovely things, low-voiced.

“I’m glad you know you’re gorgeous,” I said to him, meaning it. It was good to know someone with self-esteem…it made it seem much more achievable. Not that I didn’t know I had accomplished good things or that I wasn’t aware of how I looked and how to make myself look even better – I just never really felt good about myself in spite of that.

He touched my hair gently. “Well, I was lucky to be raised to have good self-esteem. It’s worth learning to love yourself, you know…it makes it a heck of a lot easier to love others, for a start.”

I grinned. “I’ll try,” I promised.

“Good.”

He kissed me and his hand snaked down to tickle me and I yelled and he laughed and then we were getting out of bed and going to the shower.

As soon as we were dressed, we went down to his car together. I got into the passenger seat, taking a moment to look at it. I had hardly noticed the details the previous night – my mind hadn’t been on chrome and engines. I breathed in the scent of the interior as I sat down and looked around.

“Wow,” I said. “Great wheels.”

He blushed. “Thanks,” he said. “I am happy with it. And knowing you like it makes it even better, to my mind.”

I had to smile. “That’s so sweet.”

He chuckled. “Well, now that I’ve shown it off, I hope we can actually get somewhere and we don’t just have to sit here in the parking-bay, breathing in the smell of the dashboard.”

We both laughed. He turned the keys and I heard the engine purr to life. I couldn’t help feeling a thrill of nervous energy race through me as we sped off towards the exit to the parking lot. We joined the traffic, blending seamlessly, and I watched the other cars go past, enjoying the wonderfully smooth engine.

The road from my house to the park was not too long, and soon we were looking for somewhere to park. I felt a wash of excitement as we found one and set off at a restful pace towards the pedestrian crossing.

“So,” Brett said to me as we walked down the path. I looked over at him, admiring how his lithe, gorgeous body looked as he walked. He was more relaxed here, more direct. And it seemed as though his walk was more relaxed too; his arms swinging, a very slight favoring of the right leg that was somehow even more sexy than his businesslike walk. “So, do you usually come here on weekends? What does Christine typically do on weekends?” His eyes were bright and inquiring, mouth smiling.

I blushed. “Not much, actually.” I felt a bit shy. I didn’t really socialize much, outside Neela. I hadn’t gotten into the habit of having groups of friends – when I was a kid, I had been on the edge of things.

“Do you have hobbies?” he wanted to know. I shrugged.

“Walking, reading…I love reading.”

“Me too!” he exclaimed. “I don’t really have a favorite genre – I read everything. Modern, classic, fiction, non-fiction…I just like books.” He lifted a shoulder. He sounded pretty embarrassed too.

We walked down the path. The sunshine was pouring down onto the lawns, and kids were playing; chasing each other and practicing football moves. I slowed down as we passed an empty bench bathed in glorious warmth. Brett seemed to like the idea of sitting down too, and we settled down, looking out over the busy lawn.

“I like reading too,” I said wistfully. Books had always been something of an escape for me. “In the world of a book, nobody could get me. I could float off into a place of castles and dragons and beauty, where my own world didn’t exist for a while. It’s like, books are their own worlds.” I couldn’t explain what I meant, but I felt very passionate about it.

Brett nodded. “Exactly! A book creates a world where anything is possible.”

“Yes! I couldn’t have said it so perfectly.”

We smiled at each other. It was a conspiratorial smile, as if we shared some knowledge between us alone. I felt a strange warmth flood my heart. I had never actually met someone I connected to like this. In my past, I’d chosen men who treated me badly – I think that maybe I expected it and so I didn’t object when they did. But now, I felt like I was talking to someone I liked talking to – someone I liked, in fact.

Brett was turning out to be a complex character, I thought – I had seen the businesslike, practical Brett and, just lately, I’d seen the passionate Brett. But it seemed that there were other facets to him that I wouldn’t have guessed at – hidden depths and subtleties.

“It’s pretty unusual, actually – being a reader,” Brett said. He was looking at me with those beautiful brown eyes and my heart flipped over.

“I know,” I said softly. “It’s nice to find that out about you.”

He grinned. “I reckon we have a lot to find out about each other.”

That made me smile. We had already found out quite a lot, I wanted to say – but he was right. In terms of actual traits, I knew so little about him, and he of me.

I looked out over the lawn, my heart thumping. I could feel Brett’s hand on mine as we sat there, just enjoying the busy noisiness of the park and our own shared calm. I watched two kids fighting over a football – a playful interaction that ended in them chasing each other around the field, laughing in high-pitched merriment. Brett was smiling.

“Typical boys,” he grinned.

I nodded. I didn’t really know, actually, now that I came to think about it. I hadn’t any siblings and I hadn’t really had any friends either, when I was that age. But they certainly seemed to be happy, healthy kids, and so I had to agree with him.

“Yeah,” I said.

He chuckled as the kids kicked the ball together, laughing and squealing with excitement. He looked wistful, as if they reminded him of a time in his life.

I wondered about him. He never really talked about his past, either. I didn’t even know if he had any brothers and sisters. I was about to ask him, but he gestured across from us, to the other side of the lawn.

“Shall we go and see what’s so exciting over there?” he asked. He was pointing at a crowd across the park. I shrugged.

“Yeah, okay,” I said. In my experience, people didn’t tend to crowd up for good reasons, but we walked over holding hands and the delight of that outweighed any misgivings I might have had. There were people coming and going and if it had been something serious, I reckoned they would have looked more concerned. As it happened, everybody was relaxed and some people even smiled at us as we walked past, nodding a greeting.

As we neared the crowd, I spotted the source of the excitement – a van selling soft-serve. I felt myself grin. It was one of my most favorite things. I turned to see Brett looking at me, his eyes sparkling.

“Shall we get one?” he asked.

“Yes!” I said, giggling. “I haven’t had one in years!”

We stopped at the van and Brett ordered our soft-serve. I felt a glimmer of excitement, looking at the high-piled creamy whiteness. I bit into it and shut my eyes – it tasted better than I remembered.

When I looked up, Brett was grinning. I frowned, though the corners of my lips were still lifted in a smile. He laughed.

“What?”

“I haven’t seen anyone look so happy about anything in ages.”

I laughed too. “It’s one of my favorite things,” I said, taking another lick. I saw him tense, and I realized that he was watching my pink tongue taking a lick of the dessert. I grinned, enjoying how it felt to have him look at me like that. He was staring with desire kindling in his eyes and I licked it again, deliberately exaggerating the gesture. He took a deep breath and I felt longing flare in my loins.

“So,” he said, as we walked back past the bench, his voice tight but trying to sound casual. “You don’t have any particular plans today? No important work to catch up or anything?”

“No,” I said, feeling my skin tingle at the particular tone in his voice. He was still watching me eat and I could still see the flame of desire in his eyes. I made my voice light, though inside I was aching with longing. “Nothing important.”

“Good,” he replied. His voice was smoothed velvet. “So, after we’ve finished our soft-serve and walked around the park, we might go back to your apartment for a while?”

“Um, yes,” I said. I swallowed hard, my throat tight with desire and longing. “We could, definitely.”

“Good,” he said again, and this time I could hear real satisfaction in his voice. We went back to the bench to eat our purchases.

We drove back to my apartment, and, even though my heart was racing with excitement, his hand warm where he stroked my thigh, I still found myself wondering about the mystery that surrounded him – sometimes he seemed a bit secretive, as though there was something that he was trying to hide, some story that was hidden from me. I hoped I would have a chance to discover more.