Tapping The Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaires #1)(37)

I sighed. “You’re the world’s worst older brother, you know that?”

The insult deflected off of him with ease.

“So, what in the hell were you up to last night?”

Glancing down at the text messages between Will and me, memories from last night hijacked my brain, taking it hostage.

The dance. That kiss. My lips. Benadryl. Kline’s bed.

My jaw hit the terrace, my eyes going wide in shock. The details were hazy, but the basics stood out enough to worry me.

Did I really get naked in his bed last night?

“Gigi? You still there?”

Moments and snapshots from twelve or so hours prior flooded my head. “I’m sexy and naked and ready to fornicate.”

“Oh, no.” I covered my mouth with my hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Bye, Will.”

“Hey! Wha—”

I ended the call. I didn’t have time for his shenanigans or the hour-long physician’s lecture that would have occurred had I told him about my allergic reaction. No doubt, Will would’ve been furious I didn’t go to the emergency room last night.

This moment required an immediate call to Cassie. The line rang three times before she answered, her voice drugged with sleep. “It’s kind of early, Wheorgie.”

Forgoing pleasantries, I dove right into my current situation, highlighting the main points. My ramble lasted a good three minutes, only pausing to take a quick breath between run-on sentences.

“So, what you’re telling me is that your date with Kline started off great, until you had an allergic reaction and your face ballooned up like a blimp? And then you chugged a bottle of Benadryl, got naked in his bed, and attempted to hand him your lady flower, but you guys just ended up eating pizza instead?”

“It sounds even worse when you repeat it back to me,” I whined.

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m in his apartment, standing outside on the terrace so he can’t hear me freaking the f*ck out.”

“And you stayed at his place last night?”

“Yeah, I woke up in his bed this morning.”

“Did he try to usher your ass out of his bed the second you woke up?”

I shook my head. She didn’t respond.

“See, the way phone conversations work, is that you actually have to say the words out loud.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” I retorted. “And no, he didn’t try to push me out of bed and send me packing. He was actually pretty sweet.”

“I’m not sure what the problem is, then.”

“Are you serious?” I shouted. “I’m mortified, Cass! I pretty much made a fool out of myself last night! I don’t even—”

“Hey,” she interrupted my rant.

“What?” I snapped back.

“Take a breath and think this over,” she coaxed, her voice cool and calm. “Sure, things didn’t go as planned, but…you’re still at his apartment. He’s not acting weird. He didn’t try to shove you out the door. Right?”

I nodded.

“I’m assuming you’re nodding your head, so I shall continue,” she said, amusement highlighting her voice. “You have two options here, Georgie. You can either grab your shit and make a beeline for the door and continue to stew in your mortification back at our apartment. Or you can get some tits and go in there and demand a re-do.”

“A re-do?”

“Demand you finish that amazing kiss. Or, you know, turn that sexy lip-lock into something else. Something more orally challenging.”

I ran through my options. I could either let self-doubt rule my brain or walk back into his apartment and show him what a confident, self-assured woman looks like when she’s ready to take what she wants.

“You’re right,” I agreed, steadfast in my decision. “Embarrassment can go f*ck itself. It’s time for a re-do.”

“That’s my girl.”

“I love you, Casshead.”

“Love you too,” she responded, a smile in her voice. “Now, stop wasting time and go in there and kiss the hell out of Big-dicked Brooks.”

“Okay, that’s my cue to end this call,” I teased. “Have fun snapping pics of muscly men.”

“Oh, the fun has already been had, my dear. I plan on having even more fun tonight, without a lens in front of my face.”

I smiled, my nerves finally at ease. “I miss your crazy ass.”

“Miss you too, sweet cheeks. Call me later and let me know how things went.”

“You got it.”

“But make sure it’s tomorrow because I’m about to be balls deep in my best impression of a rodeo queen. The Italian Stallion—”

“I’m hanging up now!”

Her laugh was the last thing I heard as I tapped end on the call.

Turning for the door, I stopped mid-step, my eyes meeting my reflection in the glass panes. I did a quick once-over, taking inventory of my current state. My hair was a little askew, pulled up in a messy bun. My legs peeked out from beneath Kline’s Harvard cotton tee. My ass was covered by a pair of white cotton boy shorts. It wasn’t my sexiest of days, but I didn’t look awful. And surprisingly, my lips had gone back to their normal size.