A Game With The Billionaire

Chapter 26:

Samantha:

For the past few days now, Andrew and I have fallen into some sort of easy agreement. Oh, we still can’t stand the sight of each other but at least, the normal bickering between us both is now replaced with mutual agreement.

I can’t believe I am saying this. Andrew and I can last an hour in a room without throwing jabs at each other. In fact, our relationship seems to be progressing because he invited me over to his house tonight so we can try and figure out what’s wrong with Jeremy’s allergy reactions.

As I bade the nurse in their station goodbye, Jessica from radiology drapes a hand over my neck, pulling me towards her, letting me inhale her perfume. “If I recall perfectly, you and I are off work tomorrow so how about we hit the bar and get stupidly drunk?”

I shrug her away. “Tempting offer, but no. I will have to pass on that one.” I tell her as we exit the hospital.

“Whatever!” she yells playfully, rushing towards her sedan. “More beer for me then!”

I laugh as I locate my car and type in Andrew’s address, blasting music from my Bluetooth speaker, I arrive at his house. It’s exactly the way I imagined it anyways. The foyer of Andrew’s house smells faintly of cedar and something citrusy. Everything is all sharp edges and matte black suiting him perfectly.

“Stop gawking, Dr. Morris,” he mutters, already halfway down the hallway.

From behind, I flip him off and arrange my coat on the rack leaving me in my navy blue fitted scrubs and simple sneakers. Andrew on the other hand is in a heather gray Henly and sweatpants, looking nothing like the well fitted and grumpy doctor everyone’s familiar with in the hospital.

His hair is still damp from a shower, curling at the ends. Lucky him, he got to work the night shift yesterday so he’s resting today.

“I like your house.” I say as I step into the living room. “It’s tidy.”

He gives me a look that equally translates to: of course it is, what do you take me for?

“It’s not like I am impressed or anything. So calm your horses.” I call after him. He grunts and disappears into what I assume is the kitchen; I stare around at his bookshelves that’s filled with medical textbooks and classic novels. I picture him sitting by the fireplace on a Sunday night reading those ancient books. It sends a shudder through me, why am I even imagining that?

He comes back with a plastic bottle of water and hands it over to me. “You’re going to need it.” His hand grazes along mine when he hands me the bottle, there’s this zap I feel all the way to my bones.

“Than-thank you.” Seriously, what is wrong with me? This is Andrew Roberts, my biggest nemesis, childhood rival so why am I feeling all jittery in his presence? Maybe it’s because I haven’t gotten laid, to be honest, it’s been a while.

Yes, that’s exactly what I need right now. Shoot, maybe I should have taken Jessica’s offer maybe then I won’t be seeing how his shirt broadens around his shoulder or I won’t be outlining every dig of his muscles or I won’t be noticing how soft his Henly shirt is if I drag my hand across—

“Shall we start?” he catches me watching me and there’s a faint smile on his lips. It makes me annoyed, I need to get this over with and go home. Thankfully, I have a night shift tomorrow so I will be able to sleep in.

“Right, of course.” Andrew flops on the dark sectional that costs way more than our salary combined. I stay standing, flipping through the charts. “Okay, so here’s what I’ve noticed....” he’s not even paying attention. “Can you please listen to me and quit doing that eyebrow thing?”

“What eyebrow thing?” he’s trying to act all innocent but I can read right through him, he’s bullshitting me right now. “Why aren’t you sitting? At that rate, you’re going to break your back.”

“I am not even forty.” I snarl back and there it goes. The little mutual agreement we have managed to build in the past one week has officially dissolved and now our hate for one another is back in full force. “We’re literally the same age, Andrew Roberts.” I drop the bottle of water on the table, too agitated to even take a sip.

“Are we now, Sam?” That glint in his amber eyes returns.

“Don’t you dare, Drew.” I raise my hands. This partnership can never work between us, we always throw bitter snarks at each other and that’s the way it is going to be. “I can’t even with you any—”

My sentence is cut short when my sneakers catch the heel of the rug. The chart flies and I pitch forward, straight into the six-feet-two of a grumpy millionaire physician, who, for once in his life, isn’t fast enough to move.

We land with me sprawled across his chest, his arm locking around my waist like he’s catching a falling scalpel. My palms are flat against warm cotton and a stupidly firm chest. His heartbeat thuds under my ear, fast, too fast for someone who claims to despise me.

I can feel his breath against my temple. Mint and something darker. His voice is a low rumble. “Are you done assaulting me, Morris, or should I bill you for the dry cleaning?”

Our eyes meet and it is as though time just paused. I am staring at his strong jaw and amber eyes that seem to pierce into my soul. I can feel the heat radiating from his body. Suddenly, I am imagining what it’s like to kiss Andrew Roberts.

He leans in slightly, his mouth stopping at the tip of my earlobe. “Sam.” He throatily says and my whole body erupts in goose bumps. I lean in.

He does the same.

We’re leaning in and in, until our lips are fractions away from touching until—

The foyer door opens without a knock.

“Andrew, darling, I was in the neighbour and-”

It’s Andrew’s mother, Sadie, voice followed immediately by the delighted gasp of my mother. They stop dead in the living room’s entrance.

I am still on top of him. One of his hands is dangerously low on my back; my face is roughly the colour of a tomato.

“Hello, moms.” Andrew says flatly, not moving. “Perfect timing.”

My mom recovers first, clapping her hand like she’s in the front row of a rom-com movie. “Samantha Grace Morris, you little minx!” her voice carries glee, and I’m sure she will never let me live this down.

My mother and Andrew’s mom are best-friends, doing everything together. Their friendship was so strong they gave birth to us on the same day, and they have always tried to match-make us together.

Who even comes here unannounced?

“It’s not—” I scramble off him so fast I nearly fall. Andrew sits up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, ears red. We were seconds away from kissing!

He’s cute when he blushes. Where’s this voice in my head even coming from?!

Sofia is still beaming. “We always said you two just needed a push. Or a couch. Same thing.”

“There was no push.” I squeak. “I tripped and I landed on him.”

Andrew stands, towering and mortified. “We were reviewing a chart, she tripped. That’s it.”

With the gleam in their eyes, I doubt they believed any word we said. My mom winks- actually winks. “Of course, sweetie. You tripped and landed on him.”

“I hate both of you.” I announce to the room.

Andrew pinches the bridge of his nose. “Same.”

Sofia waves a manicured hand. “Oh please, everyone has a betting pool for you too. We say it’s ‘enemies to lovers, slow-burn, forced proximity, yada yada,”

“By any chance, are you both reading romance novels?” Andrew asks, pure horror written all over his face.

“Yes, Emma’s friend, Emily, got us hooked. We can’t stop. In fact, we were heading to a book-club.” Sofia beams.

I make a strangled noise. Andrew mutters something like ‘kill me now’.

Mom grins like she just won the lottery. “We just came to check on Andrew, but clearly he’s in very good hands.” She pauses. “Or on very good hands, depending.”

“Mom!”

Andrew steps forward, hand placed over his hips like he’s talking to two disobedient toddlers who spent the whole day playing instead of studying. “Out. Both of you. Out.”

Sadie laughs, delighted. “Fine, fine. We’ll give you two some privacy to finish discussing that chart.” She actually uses air quotes.

The door shuts behind them with a cheerful click and I imagine them telling all their book club members that their children are officially dating. It makes me shudder.

Silence reigns. I stare at the floor, Andrew stares at the ceiling. Apparently, we are both still very mortified after everything that just happened.

The truth sinks in. I almost kissed Andrew. We were seconds away from our lips touching. This is getting messed up, one would think that in our thirty-seven years of life, Andrew and I should have hooked up once or twice, but the closest we have gotten is brushing hands.

My number one rule is: don’t ever hook up with Andrew Roberts.

I was seconds away from breaking the rule I have carved for so many years. I bend and start arranging the charts, I can’t stay here again. “I have to go.”

Andrew looks at me, his face unreadable. “Is this about what almost happened?”

Why is he so damn blunt all the time?

“No.” I reply as calmly as I ever will even though my heart is beating frantically, shut up, heart. My hormones are just all over the place, I haven’t got laid in forever, that’s why I am acting like this.

Exactly.

Andrew watches me tightly, still not believing what I said. I have to get the f**k away from his guy as soon as possible.

“Goodnight.” I rush towards the foyer and wear my coat. Andrew opens his mouth, wanting to say something but what comes out is a gruff goodnight. I don’t need to be told before I leave his house.