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Although my mom was her own type of crazy, she was still my mom and I loved her. I’d always want her acceptance. And I’d definitely want her to like the man in my life.

I walked toward her, leaning down and wrapping her in a tight hug.

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sweetie. I’ve missed having you home. I hope you’ll start visiting more often.”

“Consider it a done deal.” I squeezed her tighter. “As long as you promise not to eavesdrop.”

“Deal,” she agreed, laughing.

As I walked out of her office, she added, “But seriously, sweetie. I was a little jealous. That orgasm must have lasted a good two minutes.”

“Three minutes,” I called over my shoulder. “It was three minutes and it might have been more, but I’m pretty sure I lost consciousness.”

I heard her laugh the entire way to my bedroom.

The second I stepped into my room, I threw my body onto the bed, my back hitting the mattress, causing pillows to fall onto the floor. My eyes took in the many nuances of my childhood stronghold. My parents hadn’t changed a thing since I’d left for college. Everything was as I had left it. Old pictures of prom and homecoming littered my desk. My graduation cap hung next to the door. And the pink and yellow flowered wallpaper still lined the walls.

It was hideous by all accounts, but it was still my room. The bedroom I had grown up in. The place I’d had sleepovers and gossiped with friends about our latest crushes. The place I’d had my first kiss with Stevie Jones, even though we were supposed to have been studying for our algebra exam.

Nostalgia was potent, filling my lungs and plastering a reflective smile on my face. So much in my life had changed from the day I’d grabbed my last suitcase and headed to college. I had a great job, amazing friends, and now…Kline. It was funny how two years ago, I’d thought of him only as my boss, refusing to see him as anything else, and now, he had become this fixture in my life, one I was starting to hope would be permanent.

The sound of a phone vibrating across the surface of my nightstand caught my attention. I picked it up, tapping the screen, wondering if Cass was getting ready to harass me about using the last of the coffee creamer and leaving a sink full of dishes before heading to my parents’.

The screen lit up with a TapNext notification.

TAPRoseNEXT: Hey you, how’s your day going?

I tilted my head, confused. Why was I getting messages from my account? The one I’d told Cassie to take over?

Turning over the phone, my mind registered the case. Not the glittery sparkle one I’d bought a few weeks ago, but plain, old, simple black.

Kline’s phone case.

Not mine.

Kline’s.

I dropped the phone like it had caught fire. It hit the hardwood floor with an awful thud and I cringed, wondering for a brief second if I had broken his phone.

But then the shock of the entire situation took over.

If he…

Wait a minute…

Is this?

No way.

NO WAY.

I just stood there, staring down at the screen and the profile name TAPRoseNEXT glaring back at me. If he was getting messages from my TapNext account, then that meant…

I gaped, my eyes popping wide. Jesus Christ in a peach tree, did this mean that when I had been messaging Ruck, I had really been messaging Kline?

My heart pounded in my chest, erratically enough that I was a little concerned I might go into cardiac arrest.

Slowly, I bent down and picked up the phone. My mind warred between my options. I could either do the right thing and set the phone back down and act like I had never seen it, or I could swipe the screen, put in his passcode, and see if it was really what I thought it was.

The only reason I knew his passcode was because I’d had to retrieve a few emails for him while we were in the Hamptons. He had remembered he needed to check on a time-sensitive contract and just so happened to be elbow deep in soapy water and dishes. So, he’d told me the passcode, and I just so happened to still remember said passcode.

I scrubbed my left hand down my face while my right white-knuckled his phone. I was sure the correct choice was to act like I had never seen it, set his phone down, and walk away, but I needed to know if what I was seeing was real.

Which was why my fingers slid across the screen and pulled up the TapNext icon. I took one glance at his profile, and when the username BAD_Ruck met my confused gaze, I refused to invade any more of his privacy and immediately locked his phone, setting it facedown on the nightstand.

He. Was. Ruck.

My hands went into my hair, resting on top of my head, as I paced my bedroom. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, the four walls closing in on me. I had been messaging Kline the entire time, without even knowing it. And he had been messaging me, but he didn’t know it was me.


Tags: Max Monroe Billionaire Bad Boys Billionaire Romance