Faking It With a Billionaire || MaAn

Chapter 12 | Anuj

Regret 

It wraps around me like a dark, haunting mist as I witness Anupama swiftly darting across the kitchen.

There's that pang of regret for nearly tasting her, for almost losing myself in the intoxication of her lips.

Yet, another twinge of remorse gnaws at me, knowing she was ready to give in, and I hesitated. Her words from that grimy conference room continue to echo in my damn mind. "I don't know if she wants it," I remind myself, afraid she might withdraw from the deal before we've even begun. So, I restrained myself, even though every fiber of my being screamed for me to sweep her onto the countertop and surrender to our primal desires of devouring each other.

"Anupama," I sigh, my heart aching for the warmth of her hands against my skin. Now that my shirt is open, I can't help but feel the chill without her touch.

She avoids looking at me, and I understand why. For a fleeting moment, she let herself be vulnerable, revealing the desire in her eyes. Instead of embracing it and letting the passion between us ignite, I acted like a damn fool and extinguished the flames with a bucket of cold water.

I can sense her embarrassment without even needing to see her face.

"Listen," I start, attempting to salvage the moment.

Her posture straightens as she grabs the handle of her suitcase, her focus fixated on the windows rather than my face. "Could you just show me where I'll be sleeping?" she asks, her voice trying to hide any tremor, but I catch it nonetheless.

I run my palms down my pants, mustering the courage to approach her. "Sure, I'll walk you there and grab your bags."

As she glances back at me, her embarrassment masks itself with a fiery anger. "No. Just tell me where the hell I'm sleeping, and I'll find it myself."

I clear my throat, gesturing toward the lofted upstairs. Shit, I didn't mean to piss her off—or maybe I did. Damn it, I can't figure her out. "No," I respond firmly, reaching her and prying her fingers from the handle. She shoots me a dirty look, but I ignore it completely.

"I'll handle it," she hisses. "Just tell me where I'm crashing for the night."

Ignoring her protests, I make my way toward the staircase. With her bags in hand, I bound up the steps two at a time. Reaching the top, I glance down to see her still staring up at me from the bottom. Hands on her hips, lips pursed, she looks utterly annoyed.

"You better make up your mind quick. Choose your room or I'll well choose it for you, and trust me, you won't like my choice," I warn, smirking at her evident annoyance. Despite her muttering under her breath, she eventually ascends the stairs.

Stopping in front of me, her eyes scan the landing, taking in the view through the glass banister that looks down onto the lower floor. There's a rarely-used sitting area up here that adds a touch of elegance to the place.

She snatches her suitcase from my grip, almost losing her balance from the force. Meeting my gaze, she glares at me with a fiery intensity, brushing hair away from her face. "This penthouse has to be one of the most expensive ones in Manhattan,"—she scoffs, rolling her eyes.—"Even the worst room here is a luxury compared to what us common folks are used to."

With the conversation seemingly over, or maybe more accurately, with her done with me, Anupama glides down the corridor with her suitcase in tow. I watch her retreating figure, unable to shake a sense of unease. It's true, all the rooms are decent enough. Whichever one she picks, she'll be comfortable.

But they won't be the same room I sleep in. And for some inexplicable reason, that thought leaves me feeling a bit resentful. Two different floors, it feels too damn far.

Before I allow myself to delve too deeply into the chaos she's stirring within me, I abandon her to pick out a room and head back downstairs. My shirt remains half undone as I rummage through the refrigerator, on a mission to find something to whip up.

Nothing quite says "I'm sorry I almost kissed you" like a homemade meal.

Now, I just need to figure out if I'm apologizing for nearly kissing her or if I'm apologizing for not damn well kissing her.

***

I spend a hour whipping up a divine roasted chicken and vegetable dish. Plating it over a bed of fluffy rice and drizzling my special sauce on top, a sauce that's wowed every person I've ever served it to.

But damn it, Anupama is nowhere to be found.

After toiling away in the kitchen for an entire hour, I thought for sure she'd make her way downstairs. I mean, she had brunch with her friends, and she even mentioned eating on the plane. But still, I assumed she'd be at least a bit peckish and want a little something to munch on. Yet, it becomes painfully evident that she's deliberately avoiding me, more than I could have well imagined. As I wait at the table for a solid forty minutes, I finally accept the truth—she ain't coming back down.

The decent thing to do would be to drop a package by her door, offering an apology for whatever the hell went down earlier. 

But who am I kidding? "Nice" has never been a adjective used to describe me. 

So, I indulge in my meal without her company. I neatly pack up the leftovers and stash them in the fridge.

Then, I grind away, working into the night. My plans of calling it quits early are out the window; my mind too preoccupied with the thought of her resting upstairs for me to find any peace in sleep.

BIG ASS NOTE. 

Alright, y'all, I'm back with a mini update. Just finished those pesky exams, and I couldn't wait to jot down this part and upload it. Don't worry, longer parts are coming your way!

Ya'll know it's my 10, so buckle up 'cause I got exams coming outta my ears in September. Gonna go underground again, but don't worry, I'll try to sneak in some extra parts for y'all between the study sessions.

The story might be slow, I know, but it's like a necessary evil, so bear with it, my lovely readers.

Gonna hit 100 followers with just one to go, so I'm cooking up a new story that's gonna get dark, kinky, and all sorts of smutty. Y'all ready for that freaky ride? Can't wait to upload it!

About "12 hours with MaAn," yeah, that fic's done and dusted. I ran out of ideas after that steamy makeout session in the lift. Clueless AF on how to continue, so I'll just let y'all imagine some sense into it, okay?

Honest opinions are welcomed, darlings. Drop 'em like it's hot. ❤️