Free Undisclosed Desire: An Alpha Billionaire Romance: + bonus novel by Linnea May Page A

up.
    "If you want to see me again, you just need to say it."
    I gulp. My heart is racing again.
    "So?" Yuka is sitting at the edge of her chair, beaming over to me. "Will you be getting another billionaire treatment or what?"
    "Oh, Yuka, please –"
    "Hey!" she interrupts, raising her hands in defense. "Come on, there's nothing going on in my love life – let me at least get excited about yours! Especially when it's the elusive Evan Beckhart who is courting you."
    "Love life – don't call it that," I object. "It's not like we're dating or anything. I'm not even sure I would want that. I mean, this could get really complicated with who he is..."
    "Yeah, yeah," Yuka says, stopping me with a wave of her hand. "I like that you're being so cautious. It's probably for the best with that guy. But would you please meet him for coffee or something? And don't let him forbid you to ask questions again!"
    "Yes, ma'am," I reply.
     
    ***
     
    The message I send him has a picture of the article attached to it. And I keep it short and distant: "We need to talk. Coffee?"
    This feels like the perfect move that he would expect from me. Or so I hope.
    I can see that he reads my message shortly after I sent it, but he does take his sweet time in replying.
    I don't have to work this entire weekend and have very few things to distract me, so I actually spend the majority of my time glancing at my silent phone in hopes of hearing from him. How pathetic.
    At least Yuka is busy. She never spends much time at home and this weekend is no exception. With two jobs, a big circle of friends, her band and her current attempts at making it as a freelance designer, her life is about ten times as busy as mine. It's no surprise that she hardly finds the time for men.
    I feel lame and one-dimensional compared to her. While she is bubbling over with ideas and passion for so many things, I tend to be fully content with wasting my free time in front of my computer, or napping, or grabbing a low priced beer at a grungy club with loud – and good – music. As much as I like alternative music, I really don't have a sense of rhythm or any talent for playing an instrument myself, even though I truly wish I did.
    Yuka is a drummer in her band and saved up for a long time to be able to afford her own little drum set. It is rather small sized but still takes up almost half of her room.
    She is out for band practice shortly after our chat. After that, she has another shift to cover at the bar, just like last night.
    And I am just sitting here, alone in my room, with nothing else to do but to wait for a message from him.
    I feel worse about myself with every minute that passes, so I decide to pursue the one activity that Yuka cannot call her own: Running. I run a lot, not only because I like to stay in shape, but also because it is the best way to clear my head and be just by myself for a few minutes. My phone always stays in my room, and sometimes I even decide to run without music and just take in my surroundings.
    Not today, though. I need to move and get out, but I don't want to be completely alone with my thoughts. I don't want to think about him too much, and my music could help with that.
    It has been more than five hours since he has read my message by the time I leave the house for my run.
    Six hours by the time I get back.
    Seven hours by the time I have showered and prepared myself a simple dinner.
    Almost eight hours, when I finally hear the relieving beep.
    I am standing at the kitchen sink, right in the middle of washing the dishes when I hear it. My phone is placed on the table behind me, next to the magazine. The little light that announces there are new message is blinking.
    I take a deep breath and quickly dry my hands before I turn around to fetch it.
    It's him. Finally.
    "Do you want to see me again?" he asks.
    I frown at the screen. Has my last message not been quite clear about that?
    I ponder whether I should make him wait just as long as he did