The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me

Chapter 156: Our Night Routine



We took a small detour on our way home.

She was the one driving then, one hand lazily on the wheel, humming softly along to whatever song was playing. Halfway through the drive, she suddenly slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road.

I turned to her, confused. "What are you doing?"

She smiled like she'd just made up her mind about something. "Switch with me."

I blinked. "...What?"

> "I wanna look at your face while we drive."

I thought she was joking—until she actually killed the engine.

"Really?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

She shrugged, that smug little grin creeping up. "What? It's not my fault you're so lookable."

I stared at her for a second before shaking my head with a small smile. "You're unbelievable."

"I get that a lot," she said, grinning wider.

So yeah. That's how I ended up behind the wheel.

For the first few minutes, she just… stared at me. Like, full-on stared. No blinking, no shame. I could feel her eyes on me while I focused on the road, pretending not to notice.

After about three minutes, she finally sighed, turned away, and picked up her phone.

"Wow," I said, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. "I feel like I just got played."

She smirked without looking up. "You should be used to it by now."

I laughed softly. "You're getting too confident lately."

She looked up at that, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Don't worry. I'll make up for it in... other ways."

The way she said other ways… let's just say it didn't sound like she was talking about baking me a pie.

I raised an eyebrow. "Other ways? What do you mean by that?"

She tilted her head, lips curling. "You'll see."

I didn't push it, mostly because I wasn't sure I could handle whatever "other ways" meant when it came from her.

We drove for another ten, maybe fifteen minutes, the road quiet except for the soft hum of the tires and her occasional scrolling sounds.

That's when my stomach growled loud enough for her to look up.

I rubbed the back of my neck, half-embarrassed, half-starving. That was when it hit me, she'd been waiting for me at that café after lunch. Which probably meant there was no dinner waiting at home either.

I said calmly, eyes still on the road. "So… what are we having for dinner? I'm starving."

"Me too." She hummed, thinking for a second. "How about... we eat out tonight?"

"Okay, sure. Where should we go?"

She shrugged. "You pick. I'll eat anywhere, as long as you're there."

I smiled despite myself. "You say that now."

She didn't reply, she just gave me a small, knowing grin before going back to scrolling on her phone, her thumb gliding lazily across the screen like she hadn't just said something that made my heart skip.

A few minutes later, I pulled into one of those fast-food spots Val swore she'd never be caught dead in. It wasn't my first choice either, but we'd already driven past every other decent place, and at this point, survival instincts were kicking in.

She gave me that side-eye the moment we rolled up to the drive-through window.

"You're really doing this to me?" she said, leaning her head against the seat.

"It's food, Val. Not poison."

> "Debatable."

I chuckled. "You're acting like we're walking into a war zone."

She sighed dramatically, then muttered, "I can make a better burger in ten minutes… blindfolded."

I laughed now, reaching for my wallet. "You know, for someone who's supposedly starving, you're awfully picky."

She crossed her arms. "That's because I have standards. My taste buds deserve respect."

"Your taste buds also deserve fries," I shot back smiling.

She sighed dramatically, but I caught the tiny curve of her smile reflected in the window.

The cashier handed us our order, and the smell of fries filled the car. She peeked into the bag like a judge about to announce a death sentence.

> "The fries are soggy."

"They're fine," I said through a mouthful.

"They're insulting," she corrected, snatching one to test it herself. She chewed, frowned, then pointed a fry at me. "See? That's exactly why people lose faith in humanity."

I laughed again, and even she couldn't keep the smile from sneaking out.

By the time we finished eating, she had critiqued everything from the sauce texture to the bun density, but she still reached for the last fry.

"Thought you said they were an insult to humanity," I said.

She shrugged. "Doesn't mean I'll let you have it."

---

We got home close to eleven. The air inside was quiet, soft. I took a shower first while she sorted out a few things in the kitchen, then it was her turn.

By the time she walked into the bedroom, my attention was on my phone, scrolling through work emails, half-reading numbers that weren't making any sense anymore.

"Really?" she said.

I didn't look up right away, though I could hear the faint pad of her feet on the carpet. When I finally glanced her way, she was standing by the door, hair down and slightly damp, towel in one hand, gently rubbing at the ends.

And she was wearing one of my shirts.

A white one. One of those she always steals.

It hung just low enough to be unfair. One side had slipped off her shoulder and somehow, I was sure that part wasn't accidental.

I looked back down at my phone to keep my focus, and she made a sound — a small, exaggerated pout that told me I was already in trouble.

In the next second, the bed dipped. Then she was over me, straddling me with a soft thud of movement, her towel tossed somewhere to the side.

I still didn't look up, partly because I was being a little menace, and partly because I knew it would drive her crazy.

She tilted her head, watching me scroll like a man who didn't know the danger he was in. "Wow," she said softly. "I'm being replaced by… emails."

That made me look.

Her lips were curved in that mock-hurt smile, eyes sparkling with challenge. I started to say something —"I'm just going through some..." — but the words never made it past my throat.

Because of her eyes.

Because of that look.

She was watching me the way a cat watches a bird, calm, patient, and absolutely certain she'd win in the end. There was danger in her eyes, the kind that made every sensible thought scatter. Dressed the way she was, with that off-shoulder shirt and damp hair clinging to her skin, she didn't even need to move to make her point. She was trouble and she knew it.

Her smile deepened. "Now that I've got your attention," she murmured, leaning closer until her hair brushed my cheek, "I wanna have sex."

My brain stalled. My first thought was yes — absolutely yes. I'd wanted her like this more times than I could count, but I'd always held back, not wanting to bother her or distract her when she was busy. But then the second thought hit — work. Morning meeting. Clarkson. Deadlines. All of it came crashing in like some guilty reflex I couldn't turn off.

"I've... got work... tomorrow," I managed, weakly.

Her pout returned. "And I'll be going back in two days."

Right. London. I'd almost forgotten.

The reminder hit harder than I expected, but before I could even think about it, she reached out, plucked the phone straight out of my hand, and set it gently on the nightstand.

Then she looked at me again, her voice dropping lower, softer, almost a whisper.

"Don't worry," she said, "I'll be gentle."

I snorted, finally smiling. "Yeah, right."

She giggled, that quiet, breathy laugh that always made something tighten in my chest and then kissed me.

When she finally pulled back, her lips still brushing mine, she whispered with that smug, sleepy grin, "Told you I'd make up for it."

Then she kissed me again, slower this time.

And that was pretty much how the night ended.

---

Later, when everything had quieted, she was already fast asleep beside me. Her breathing was steady, lips parted just a little, her hand still resting lightly on my chest like she didn't want to lose contact even in her dreams.

I lay there for a while, just watching her face in the dim light.

The same girl who could make a room full of sharp-tongued professionals second-guess themselves… was now half-curled against me like she owned the world — just because I was right here, next to her.

And maybe that was true.

Because somewhere between the chaos she brought and the calm that followed, she always found a way to remind me, that I didn't need perfection. I just needed her, just like she needed me.

Sleep finally came, but not before the smallest smile tugged at my lips.

Because even after all this time, she still had that effect on me.

Always.

---

To be continued...

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