Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
A ubrey
I don’t know how long I can dawdle here pretending I’m still sealing up this damn mural. I mean, how many coats of invisible sealing does it really require?
That’s what Jack, the security guard, just asked me.
“That was the last one.” I wipe the brush on the side of the polyurethane can to clean it.
I didn’t run my plan by Jan because I think she would’ve said not to do it. That’s what she told me when I first volunteered to get the contents of Jamie’s hard drive.
What I’m contemplating tonight is even harder. I have to steal a keycard? This is nuts. But it might be doable. Especially with Jack’s omnipresence.
His keycard is hanging out of his pocket. All I have to do is distract him and pull it out.
“I’m going to get cleaned up here, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Oh no, I don’t mind you here at all,” he’s quick to say. “I’m just fascinated by your process here.”
Or my ass. But whatever. I don’t mind his interest. It’s going to play in my favor in a minute here.
I put the brush on the paint roller tray with the roller and pick it up. “I’m just going to wash this stuff out, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“Sure. I’ll walk you down.”
Such a gentleman.
As I brush past him, I let the roller slide off the tray. “Whoops!”
He immediately stoops to pick it up. I bump into his hip, reaching at the same time with my right hand. As I jostle him, I tug on the lanyard hanging out of his pocket and tuck the card in my back pocket.
“I got it,” he says, and we both straighten up, laughing.
“Thanks.” I grab the tray to avoid locking gazes and having a moment with this guy. Guilt floods through me.
Hopefully, he won’t get into any trouble over losing his key.
More importantly, I hope he never realizes I’m the one who took it.
I hustle off to the women’s restroom and clean my brush, roller, and tray. When I return, Jack has folded my drop cloth into a neat pile and put away the step stool I borrowed from the closet.
He turns to look at me and draws a breath.
Shit.
He’s going to ask me out.
I stoop to pick up the polyurethane can and set it on top of the paint tray.
He’s hot, but I’m not interested. More importantly, I can’t get involved with him now that I stole his keycard. It would put him in danger of losing his job–or worse.
I’m saved by his security radio going off. “Jack?”
He pulls out the walkie talkie and hits a button. “Go ahead.”
“Is that artist still up there?”
He and I look at each other in surprise. He holds my gaze as he speaks into the mouthpiece. “Yeah, I’m with her now. What’s up?”
“There’s a guy down here who says he’s her ride.”
My ride.
Billy?
What the fuck? I snicker internally at the idea of Billionaire Billy acting as my taxi.
At least his arrival made for a perfect interruption. I smile brightly. “That’s my…boyfriend.” That will stop him.
The light and hope drain from his expression. “Oh, okay.”
“You don’t have to walk me down if you don’t want.”
“Nah, I will. Let me carry this stuff for you.” He takes the paint tray from my hands and puts the drop cloth over the top.
A true gentleman. Even when he’s been dissed.
The elevator ride is thankfully short, and I step out, taking my things from his hands.
Billy stands in front of the reception desk in the darkened foyer, his brows down, and a scowl on his mouth. As if I’d asked for a ride and was late or something.
The guy is an arrogant asshole.
“Thanks, Jack.” I turn to walk backward as he steps out of the elevator, eyeing Billy.
Another rush of guilt runs over me, and I take two quick steps back and give him a hug. “You’re a cool guy,” I tell him.
He looks a little dazed but smiles.
I swear to God I hear Billy growl. Like, a literal animal growl.
“Bye, guys!” I call out, waving to both Jack and the other security guard as I bop on past Billy, ignoring him completely.
I hear another growl just behind me.
I don’t stop or turn around, I just walk straight down the sidewalk. I should just keep ignoring him and walk myself to the subway.
Would he stop me?
Why is he even here? I said, no, thanks.
But it would be too rude to just walk away. My conscience won’t let me. I stop and whirl, surprised to find Billy right behind me. He snatches the paint things from my hands, his scowl firmly on lock.
“Why are you here ?” I demand.
He tips his head to the side. “Get in the car.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I don’t want you walking alone at night.”
I don’t want to like that statement. I hate that warmth crawls from the soles of my feet right up to my chest.
Dang.
It sounds like something my dad would say to my mom. Sweet. Unnecessary, but sweet.
But that can’t be right.
Billy White is anything but sweet.
Now he’s the one ignoring me, carrying my paint supplies to his car. He’s illegally parked right in front of the building. This guy thinks laws don’t apply to him.
But I guess there’s no parking ticket he couldn’t afford.
It’s hard to imagine having the kind of wealth he has. The kind Madi will soon have. You could do so much good with that kind of money. Install green spaces around the city. Fund programs for the homeless. Back a political candidate who cares about their constituents.
Well, I will soon have a hundred grand to put to good use.
I’ve never even considered having that kind of money.
I’ll be able to pay off my student loans at City College.
I could pre-pay my rent for the year and cut back on my hours at La Résistance, not that I don’t love working there.
After this one job for Billy, I can focus on my art.
Or on studying for the LSAT, which was my original educational plan.
It’s still a good one, but I don’t find myself excited about the idea anymore. Making art is more fulfilling. Although creating change as a lawyer would probably also be fulfilling, just in a different way.
Billy throws the door to the passenger side open, somehow holding the paint tray with the half-full can of polyurethane in one hand. The guy must have bionic wrists.
I reach it, expecting him to move out of the way, but he stands there like a chauffeur. Is he actually going to hand me into the car?
It’s absurd, but my body heats in reaction–just as it did with all the other gentlemanly gestures he’s made. I stop right in front of him–too close–and lift my face to his. “What now, big guy?” I taunt.
His gaze dips to my lips. His eyes glint icy-grey. “Get in the car, Aubrey.”
“I didn’t ask for a ride.”
“You’re getting one,” he counters.
One corner of my lips twitches. I hold out my hand. “Is this how it works?”
He’s so smooth. His palm is already engulfing mine, a firm, steady presence for me to lean into as I lower myself into the car.
I hold my hands out to take the supplies on my lap for the trip, but he slams the door, walking around and depositing them in the trunk before getting behind the wheel.
This suddenly feels like a date. Why is Billy really here? Is he interested in me?
Is that why he offered me the job?
The idea seems crazy, but I can’t come up with another reason. Unless Brick ordered him to suck up to me or something.
But even sucking up wouldn’t require him to play taxi driver to me–the lowly “Cafe Girl,” as he calls me.
“What’s with you and the security guy?” he demands as he peels out into traffic.
I lean my head back on the headrest and give a soft chuckle.
Well. I guess I have my answer. I wasn’t imagining it. William White the III is interested.
In me .
The last guy in the world I would ever hope to attract wants in my pants. The antithesis of what I look for in a partner.
My lady bits tingle with sudden blood flow.
Huh. I’m turned on by the idea of screwing my “no way” guy.
If that’s not the strangest and most unexpected twist in my life story, I don’t know what is.
Billy
“Jealous?” Aubrey asks.
“No,” I scoff, way too quickly. The second I saw Aubrey rise to tiptoe to hug the muscular security guard, my wolf went wild. Even now he’s howling, demanding I pull her into my arms and replace the stranger’s scent with mine.
But that’s ridiculous. There’s no reason I should be so possessive about this human.
I grit my teeth and taste blood when the razor edge of my fang grazes the inside of my cheek.
My canines ache, which also doesn’t make sense.
The only reason my fangs would sharpen is when I’m preparing to mark–claim–my mate.
And there’s no way in hell this human is someone I would claim. I just need to get laid.
And let my wolf out. That’s why I’m feeling feral–full moon is coming, and he’ll need a run. In the deep woods, surrounded by pack and far, far away from any human. Even ones that smell like honey and nutmeg. Especially that kind.
Aubrey’s delicious scent fills the car, making my mouth water. She’s parted her legs, releasing a bloom of scent into the air. I bite back a groan.
“Hmmm,” she hums, turning her head to hide a smile. The movement makes light flash on her silver piercing, and I have the urge to lean in and press my mouth against hers, tasting her flavor off her tongue. The silver would burn, but that would be part of the fun.
I shake my head as if that will jostle these thoughts out of my head. Kissing her is just a forbidden temptation, and I’ve always risen to a challenge.
My cock rises. I just need to remember that the goal is to make her beg for me.
“Why would I be jealous?” I force my shoulders to relax.
“No reason.” She leans back in her seat, totally relaxed. The movement sends more of her scent wafting my way, and I grip the steering wheel tighter, as if that will help me hang onto my control. “You seem to be going out of your way to spend time with me.”
“You’re the one who took the job at my place.”
“You’re the one who offered.” She turns to study me. I focus on the road, but my wolf preens under her undivided attention. “Or were you in the market for a mural before I came along?”