Page 47 of Billionaire's Coastal Haven

Kelsey squeals and presses her fingertips to her lips then shakes my arm. “Details. Who made the first move? Where were you? Was it amazing? Do billionaires kiss better than normal men, or is all that money compensation for deficiencies in other areas?”

I blink at the rapid-fire questions.

Yep. No help from the unrequited romantic’s corner. What did I expect from a woman who has pined for a man for almost a decade?

I grab my sensible friend’s hand. “Em, what do I do?”

“Why do you need todoanything?” She cocks her head to let me fill the silence.

Confession time.

“Because I want to do it again.” I want to bury my face in my hands to hide my blush, but I force myself to watch her expression.

She sucks her lips against her teeth and flames not only burn across my cheeks, but down my chest into my stomach, where they smolder and hope dies.

A smallish part of me wanted her to sympathize.

Maybe encourage me.

Main character energy, right? That’s what I wanted before, but her scowl makes it clear she doesn’t believe I should chase that feeling.

If she encouraged me to kiss Landon, to sow wild oats or whatever, I might have been able to convince myself he was a good idea.

It was a fraction of one percent, but that’s better than nothing.

But if my logical compass on the other side of the table thinks I’m being stupid, then I’m being stupid.

“What’s wrong with wanting to kiss him?” Kelsey asks.

“What’s wrong?” Emberly taps her finger into the table and whispers. “Everything. He’s the enemy. Do you have any idea what Lucky would do if she got ahold of this information?”

“Lucky can mind her own business,” Kelsey says. “It’s not like she can attract a man as beautiful as Landon Prince. Imagine how pretty your babies would be.”

Emberly smacks Kelsey’s arm. “She’s not having anyone’s babies. Especially not his.” Emberly turns her scowl on me. “You can’t kiss him again.”

Kelsey scoffs. “She’s allowed to have fun. A man like that doesn’t get serious about women—no offense, Zo—so what’s the harm in enjoying herself if he’s interested in extracurricular activities?” She tents her fingers below her chin. “Sounds romantic. Trapped by a thunderstorm, snuggled next to a crackling fire. All you needed was a picnic basket and you’d have been on a reality TV fantasy date.” She spreads her hands like she’s revealing a marquee. “Win the billionaire’s heart. Oh, no. The Mayor’s Billionaire. That has a nice ring to it.”

“Kels, why do you want her to get hurt? Because that’s the only outcome I see in this scenario,” Emberly says.

“Not if she’s smart about it.” Kelsey shifts her gaze to me. “It’s not like you’re hoping for wedding bells. Are you?”

“Definitely not. How would that even work? He’s here until he builds his resort, then I’ll never see him again.”

Kelsey flips her hands like I made her point. “Making out is the best part of a relationship and he has amazing lips. I don’t see why she can’t borrow them while they’re in town.”

“Zoe doesn’t make out with strangers. It took her, what, two months to kiss what’s-his-bucket, the financial advisor from Seattle who was here that summer?”

“She shouldn’t have kissed him in the first place. He only talked about how to increase her portfolio. Never brought her flowers or swept her off her feet. She did all the work in the relationship. The only reason she kissed him was because we were at that bonfire and there was a shooting star. She kissed a frog under the stars, hoping he’d turn into a prince, and it didn’t work that way. Now she’s got a literal Mr. Prince who wants to kiss her. Let her get her smooching on.”

It doesn’t surprise me they’re talking about me like I’m not here. This is why I called them. They’ll debate my path and tell me which to choose. That’s what I need right now.

Forget main character energy—they make good points. I don’t want a broken heart. I don’t do casual. I want the happily-ever-after, forever-and-ever, no-take-backs kind of love.

Landon can’t give me that, so why put my heart on the line?

But how do I forget the desire in his eyes? The praise that tumbled from those same kissable lips makes my core throb.

I plunk my forehead against the table. It was one kiss—well, make-out session. I’m giving it too much importance.