MR.BILLIONAIRE, I AM PREGNANT

MABI I was tired. After a whole day of searching for a new job, and even more, using money I didn't even have to travel to other cities for the same purpose. I sighed deeply and smiled at my best friend's message. She was testing herself in the kitchen, swearing she would be a great cook. I doubted it, just as I knew that both of us could at most make sandwiches, fry eggs, and cook instant noodles. I set my phone aside and walked to my room, throwing myself onto the mattress. I was going through a terrible streak of bad luck, both in love and in life. I hardly saw the guy I was in love with, and I had no idea where I could find a job. I lived in a small town, and everything was already taken. There were no positions available for me to work as an administrator there, and I didn't know what to do. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and tried to think about Hugo. Suddenly, it seemed better to focus on the love that had not yet materialized rather than on the lost job and the other one that hadn't even been found. His blue eyes came to mind, and for a moment, I hoped he would knock on my door. He was my neighbor, but it felt as if he wasn't, given how long it had been since we casually bumped into each other on the street. Even in a small town, finding him seemed impossible. Seeing him smile might give me a glimmer of hope that some messy part of my life would get sorted out. The worst part was having to see him smile at other women. At Leti's wedding, my best friend, a few days ago, I saw him, and unfortunately, I practically saw him licking the floor with another friend. It was pathetic to watch him do that, and perhaps, I was even more pathetic for being in love with him. However, something told me it was him. Knocks on the door made me jump out of bed, and I blinked a few times, getting up. Would luck find me on such a bad day? I stood in front of the mirror and ran my hands through my hair, trying to at least look presentable. It was almost dawn, so no one would be here except Leti. Leti wouldn't knock. So, it could only be Hugo, right? The moment I opened the door, my smile was as wide as it could be, but it quickly faded. They weren't blue eyes, like the sea I hadn't seen in a long time. In fact, they were dark brown eyes, staring at me sternly, as always. "You knocked on the wrong door, old man," I said, and tried to close the door, but as always, Ian Torres contradicted me. He put a foot between the partially open door, not allowing me to shut it in his face. Old f*****g man! He was wearing his white cowboy hat and his usual clothes. The dark brown, almost black, beard covered most of his face, and I could swear he hadn't shaved for days. Somehow, it suited him. Just like his square jaw, emotionless, hard eyes, and the way his lips always seemed not to curve, meaning that man didn't smile. Why was he always a face I encountered no matter which path I followed? I found myself asking the universe, hating the fact that I had opened the door. It wasn't a good day for arguments, and that was all we knew how to do. We could barely stand each other. We always saw each other as cat and dog. The retrospect of how we always seemed to be battling with each other didn't amuse me that day. "I need to talk to you, kid," he said, and I wanted to punch his handsome face for the ridiculous nickname. I rolled my eyes and leaned against the doorframe, making it clear that he wouldn't enter. "You know they're going to gossip about me being at your door in the middle of the night, don't you?" he said. "The neighborhood gossips must be on standby," I retorted, rolling my eyes, and he seemed serious about it. "And I couldn't care less. Let them think I am the next Mrs. Torres since everyone's practically throwing their daughters at you," I mocked, laughing half-heartedly, and for a moment, I saw him look at me as if I were right. "What are you doing here? Isn't it enough to run into you on every corner of this town?" "A proposal," he replied, and I furrowed my brow. Had Ian forgotten that we weren't friends? In fact, that he loved to torment me and bring out the worst in me? "I need you to marry me." I widened my eyes, and it was impossible not to take a step forward and inhale sharply. I looked for the smell of alcohol on him, which seemed to make him even more tense. Only the woody and masculine scent surrounded me, and I felt completely lost. The sensation of my own body on alert frightened me. "Hit your head?" I asked, completely incredulous. I took another step forward, making him remove his foot from the doorframe. "I think old age is really making you forget that I am your declared enemy." "We're not enemies," he countered, and his gaze didn't even change. How could that man be so closed off? Why? And why the hell did I always find myself questioning that? "All right," I shrugged, crossing my arms. "We mean nothing to each other, old man. And the next time you knock on my door like a maniac in the middle of the night, I'll call Lucas and ask him to have you committed." I smiled falsely and took a quick step back, slamming the door in his face. As soon as I did that and locked it, I found myself suppressing laughter. Ian didn't insist, and I knew he was that kind of man. He wasn't the type to create a scene or pound on the door. Maybe entirely calculated. I gave him ten seconds, and I laughed out loud, knowing that even if it was a bad day, at least I had something to smile about. Ian Torres had helped me with that.