Banking the Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 2)(109)

“But why would cliff jumping freak Thatcher Kelly out?” I changed the direction of the conversation. “The man took me skydiving, for f*ck’s sake.”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Are you sure you’re not sure? Because I have a feeling Kline knows something. And if he knows, then you probably know.”

“Kline wouldn’t give me the details, which is saying a lot considering he never keeps anything from me. But I think it had something to do with Margo.”

That had my mind racing for answers I was almost a little too scared to find out.

“C’mon, Cass.” Georgia nudged me up to a sitting position. “Let’s get you out of this apartment and grab some lunch. I think a little fresh air will do you some good.”

She walked toward my bedroom door and glanced back with a smirk. “And we’re not leaving here until you shower. You literally smell like balls.”

I smiled for the first time in what felt like ages. “Like that bothers you. Everyone knows you love smelling like Kline’s sac.”

She flipped me off and strode down the hallway. “Get your stanky ass moving! I’m hungry!”

Slowly but surely, I got out of my bed and hopped into the shower.

I told myself it had nothing to do with Georgia being right about me not being okay and me being desperate to stop the “I miss him” loop of crazy that kept circling inside my brain, and everything to with the fact I hadn’t eaten since the night before.

Yeah, that’s exactly what it was.

I was fine. I was hungry, but I was motherf*cking fine.

Fucking liar.





“You didn’t have to do this tonight,” I said loudly while I leaned toward Kline’s ear to be heard over the noise of Z Bar.

“Didn’t have to do what?” he asked back innocently.

I nodded and laughed. “Give me a break. You know what.” There wasn’t a question in my mind he’d rather be at home with his wife than in the middle of some crowded bar with me. But Kline Brooks was a world-class individual, and I was seriously lucky to call him my friend. “But thanks.”

He raised his glass in salute before taking a drink, and I desperately tried to make his effort worth it. I wanted to pretend I was okay, like I wasn’t missing Cassie—like I knew how to go on. But the truth was, I didn’t. She’d become ingrained in every aspect of my life, and I liked her there.

I battled myself, and not for the first time since it’d all gone down. Had I really given her a fair shot? Was I making the whole thing a bigger deal than it was?

Half of me, the part that missed her—and yeah, it was probably the bottom half—thought definitely. I was letting my whole traumatic history with Margo color my opinion. But the other half had a laser-like memory when it came to her face in the moments before she jumped.

It wasn’t a decision in good fun because she couldn’t see how important it was to me. It was a distinct choice. A choice to hold herself away from me and everything we’d built.

A choice where she’d always put herself before me.

Everyone always speaks of selflessness in a relationship, but I expected and respected a little selfishness. I never wanted her to be the person I made her. I just wanted her to trust me enough to know the difference between respecting me and giving herself up.

But the road she was on was dirty, and she hadn’t yet uncovered the center line.

“Where’d you go just now?” Kline asked. The back of my neck felt tight under my palm.

He grabbed my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and I knew no one knew what I was feeling better than he did. Still, I had to wonder if he would have ever chosen a life separate from Georgie if their circumstances had been the same.

Not a chance in hell, heaven, or Manhattan.

I looked up to see Wes walk in, and I knew they’d called in the cavalry. I shook my head, and Kline looked over his shoulder to find the source of my amusement.

“Jesus. Whitney too?” I asked. “You guys went all out.”

Wes came to us on an easy weave through the crowd, and Kline turned to shake his hand when he arrived.

“Thanks for coming,” I said. He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. I smiled; I knew it wasn’t my normal, but I tried.

“Ah, f*ck,” he breathed before pulling me into a hug. Not a bro-hug either, but a full-on comforting squeeze with one arm tight around my back and the other hand on the back of my neck.

My throat felt tight, and I had to force a swallow down past the imaginary lump.

“Love you, man,” he whispered in my ear. It was so opposite of everything I normally had with Wes—and all the things I knew were always there.

Fast jokes and ribbing, our relationship could look petty from the outside looking in, but that was just the way we lived our day-to-day fun. This right here was all I needed to know to have that freedom—the three of us would be there for each other forever.

Granted, none of us was immortal, so there’d be a limit on the timeline of some kind, but with modern medicine, I was hoping it’d be somewhere in the 120-year range.

“Love you too, Whitney,” I murmured back. He gave me one last squeeze and then shoved me out of the way.

“Great. Now get out of my way,” he said with a teasing smile. “Your f*cking huge body is blocking the bar.”