Under His Billionaire

Leighton spent the afternoon in her room, applying to more jobs and trying not to replay Noah's text message over and over in her head.

*They're idiots.*

Two words shouldn't matter this much.

Around five, her stomach reminded her she'd only eaten toast all day. She ventured downstairs, hoping to grab something quick and escape back to her room before anyone noticed.

The kitchen was occupied.

Noah stood at the island, going through a stack of papers. He'd showered since this morning. His hair was still damp, pushed back from his face. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans, barefoot again. She was starting to think he never wore shoes in the house.

He looked up when she entered. "Hey."

"Hi." She moved toward the fridge, trying to act casual. Like this morning hadn't happened. Like she hadn't been caught watching him work out like some kind of stalker.

"We need to talk."

She froze, her hand on the fridge door. "About what?"

"Ground rules."

"Oh." She turned to face him. "Okay."

He set down the papers and crossed his arms. "My office is off-limits. Always. Even if the door's open. Don't go in there unless I specifically invite you."

"I already apologized for that."

"I know. This is me making sure it doesn't happen again." His voice was firm. Professional. Like he was running a business meeting. "Second, the gym. Same rule. Don't come in while I'm working out."

Her face heated. "I wasn't trying to..."

"Third, my bedroom. That should be obvious, but I'm saying it anyway. Stay out."

"Are you done?" The words came out sharper than she intended.

His eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"

"Are you done treating me like a child who doesn't know how to respect boundaries?"

"I'm establishing expectations."

"You're making a list of all the ways I'm not allowed to exist in your space." She crossed her own arms, mirroring his stance. "I get it. You don't want me here. You've made that pretty clear. But I'm not eight years old anymore, Noah. You don't need to lecture me about not touching your stuff or wandering into rooms I shouldn't."

Something flickered in his eyes. He pushed off the island and moved toward her, closing the distance between them. She held her ground, even though every instinct told her to step back.

He stopped a foot away. Near enough that she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze.

"No," he said quietly. "You're not eight anymore."

The way he said it made her breath catch. His eyes traveled down her face, lingering on her mouth, then lower. Taking in the curve of her neck. The way her t-shirt fit. How her jeans hugged her hips.

When his gaze came back to hers, there was heat in it. Dark and dangerous.

"That's the problem," he added.

She couldn't speak. Couldn't think. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure he could hear it.

"What's the problem?" she managed.

"You. Here. In my house." He shook his head, like he was trying to clear it. "Chloe's best friend. Twenty-three years old. Completely off-limits."

"I didn't ask to be here."

"I know."

"And I'm not trying to... I don't..." She struggled to find words. "I'm just trying to stay out of your way until I can leave."

"That's another rule." His voice had an edge now. "Stop trying to be invisible. It's not working."

"What do you want from me?"

"I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear on his face. "That's the problem. I don't know what I want, and that's not something I'm used to."

They stood there, the tension between them thick enough to cut. Leighton's skin felt too tight. Her mouth is too dry. She wanted to move closer and run away at the same time.

"For what it's worth," she said quietly, "I don't know what I want either."

His jaw clenched. "Yes, you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I see the way you look at me. Like I'm something you want but know you can't have." He leaned in slightly, and she caught the scent of his soap. "You've been looking at me like that since you were sixteen."

Her face burned. "I wasn't..."

"You were. At Chloe's birthday party. You wore a blue dress. You stood in the corner all night, watching me."

She remembered that party. Remembered the dress. Remembered how she'd felt when Noah had walked in with some blonde model on his arm. Remembered spending the whole night wishing she was brave enough to talk to him.

"I had a crush on you," she admitted. "So what? Half the girls in Chloe's school had crushes on you. It didn't mean anything."

"Didn't it?"

"No. I was a kid. Kids get crushes. They grow out of them."

"Did you? Grow out of it?"

The question hung between them. She should lie. Should tell him yes, of course, she was over it. That she didn't feel anything when he looked at her. That her heart didn't race when he got close.

But she was tired of lying.

"I don't know," she said. "Did you grow out of treating every woman like a temporary distraction?"

His expression darkened. "That's not fair."

"Neither is calling me out for how I look at you when you've been doing the same thing to me since I got here."

"I haven't..."

"You have. In the kitchen last night. In the gym this morning. Right now." She took a step closer, emboldened by her own anger. "So don't act like I'm the only one feeling something I shouldn't."

His hand came up, catching her chin. Tilting her face up to his. "You're right. I have been looking. Want to know what I see?"

She couldn't breathe. "What?"

"Trouble. The kind I swore I was done with." His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, and she shivered. "The kind that makes me want to break every one of my own rules."

"Then maybe you shouldn't make so many rules."

For a second, she thought he might kiss her. His eyes dropped to her mouth. His hand tightened on her chin. She could feel the heat radiating off his body.

Then he let go and stepped back, breaking the spell.

"Two more rules," he said, his voice rough. "Stay out of trouble. And stay out of my head."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Figure it out."

He grabbed his papers and walked out, leaving her standing alone in the kitchen, her whole body trembling.

She touched her lips where his thumb had been. Her skin still tingled from his touch.

This was bad. This was so much worse than a childhood crush. This was a real attraction. Real chemistry. The kind that could ruin everything.

Her phone buzzed. Chloe.

*Dinner tomorrow night? I'm bringing Thai food. Miss you!*

Guilt crashed over her. Chloe. Her best friend. Who had specifically warned her years ago that Noah was off-limits. Who had saved her from being homeless? Who trusted her?

She typed back quickly.

*Miss you too. Can't wait.*

She set the phone down and pressed her hands to her face. She needed to get it together. Needed to stop whatever this was before it went any further.

But when she closed her eyes, all she could feel was his thumb on her lip. All she could hear was his voice saying *You're trouble*.

And the worst part? She wanted to be. She wanted to be the kind of trouble that made Noah Knight break his own rules.

She grabbed a protein bar from the pantry and headed back to her room. As she passed his office, she heard him inside. Talking on the phone. His voice was calm and controlled. Completely different from how he'd sounded in the kitchen.

How many versions of himself did he have? The cold businessman who'd told her two weeks maximum. The gym rat who caught her watching. The man who texted her about rejections. The one who'd just touched her face like he wanted to do more.

Which one was real?

Maybe they all were. Maybe Noah Knight was just as complicated and messed up as she was.

That should have been comforting.

Instead, it just made her want him more.

She locked her door and climbed into bed, even though it was barely six. Tomorrow Chloe would be here. Tomorrow she'd have to pretend everything was fine. That nothing had happened. That she and Noah were just two people sharing a house, nothing more.

She could do that. She'd been pretending her whole life.

What was one more lie?