Style (Dressing a Billionaire Book 2): A Romantic Comedy Read Online Free Page B

frosting, I could tell he’d bought two of each. I may have drooled.
    Hugo unpacked the bags and put them on the floor, then handed me a bottle of Pellegrino. “Dinner is served.”
    He picked up the remote for the TV and restarted the movie. We both lay back and stuffed our faces, laughing at the clever movie and enjoying our escape from reality.
    I looked over and felt a warm blanket of calm and happiness envelope me as I watch the stress fade from Hugo’s face.
    I’m pretty sure I didn’t make it to the end of the movie before I fell asleep. Around three in the morning, I woke up, and the TV screen had been paused on a scene from a Bogart movie. Sabrina . Audrey and Humphrey. What a great movie.
    Hugo had cleared the pizza and cupcake boxes off the bed. I looked over to catch a glimpse of him sleeping, but he wasn’t there. I sat up in bed and looked around. The glow from the TV gave me perspective on my surroundings, and I got up to go to the bathroom. I looked around the room. He’d left me alone. As promised, he didn’t bite, and he didn’t jump my bones. Instead, he abandoned me. My stomach flopped around like a fish out of water.
    When I walked to the master bathroom, I saw the light on. I pushed the door, because it hadn’t been closed all the way.
    “Oh God, excuse me. I’m so sorry.” I backed out of the room, but I couldn’t force myself to avert my eyes.
    The water ran so quietly, I hadn’t heard it. In a shower large enough for five people, like a locker room or deep roman tub, but without a curtain, Hugo stood with his back to me, water running over his body, and highlighting the curve of his shoulders, and his ass. His left hand out to his left and up in the air, as his right hand pumped furiously in front of his groin area. He didn’t even turn around when I spoke. He must’ve been really into it, if even hearing me didn’t make him stop. I wanted him to turn around so I could see exactly what he held in his right hand. The steam from the shower heated me. Or was it the steam?
    Then he spun around, and I realized he didn’t have anything in his hand. He’d been playing the air guitar and was wearing earbuds. And he’d manscaped more than just his face. Wow!
    He sang something from an 80s hair band at the top of his lungs, then opened his eyes. “Fuck!”
    He dropped his air guitar, but didn’t think to cover his man parts.
    “Sorry. I had to pee.” I continued to look at the non-existent guitar. Wink, wink .
    He pulled something from his ears, then reached out to the wall. “Sweetie, my eyes are up here.”
    I tore my gaze from his guitar…and looked him in the eyes. “Sorry, I was admiring your air guitar.”
    He pretended to set his guitar in the corner of the shower.
    “How long have you been standing there?” He turned around and shut off the water, then wrapped a towel around his middle.
    “I just opened the door.” And watched your pumping action, hoping you were thinking of me . “What were you singing? Sounded like Whitesnake.”
    He pointed to a door. “The toilet is in there.”
    I scooted past the shower and closed the door of the loo behind me. As I sat down to pee, I laughed out loud and realized he didn’t answer my question.
    Could this night have been any odder? And now this?
    Hugo knocked on the door. “Sorry I was rude, but you caught me off guard. I’m not used to sharing my bathroom.” A pause. “Or anything, for that matter. And I’m sorry if I hurt your ears. I didn’t mean to sing loud. I didn’t want to wake you. Stupid earbuds.”
    I’d been drying my hands on a towel when I opened the door, not expecting Hugo to be a foot away. I looked up and tossed the towel at him. “I’m sorry, but I think I missed most of the show.” I snickered.“Other than those few seconds of you singing, I only heard the guitar.”
    “Ha, ha, very funny. Wasn’t it a good riff, though?”
    “Absolutely,” I played along.
    I walked by him, trying to pretend I