Read Crushing On The Billionaire (Part 3) for Free Online Page B

eyes. Nothing romantic. Sorry if you got that connotation. But honestly. I’m sorry. This is super awkward.”
    “Say no more.” He was trying hard, and I wanted to help him with whatever he happened to be going through. It was the least I could do for ruining his life. “Where are you, and when is a good time to see you?”
    We firmed up the details and said our goodbyes, and I blinked slowly, staring at the display of my phone long after the call had ended.
    Resisting the urge to pinch myself to ensure I was awake, I stared sightlessly across the room. I hadn’t dared to ask Patrick about Shawn’s fate, and I had considered my angst over not knowing to be part of my penance for what had happened. Really, I hadn’t expected to hear from my friend ever again. Maybe that was morbid—or maybe just evidence of me trying to avoid the things that caused me pain. But now that I had heard from him, now that I heard he was okay and wanted to “make amends” with me, I dreaded seeing him. I imagined him in a bathrobe, shuffling along a corridor along with other lost souls, and I didn’t think I could handle seeing him like that. I preferred to remember Shawn as my happy friend, the one who loved to share a beer and talk about school and dream about the future, the one who had come back from visiting his mom and had been so inspired by the experience that he’d roped me into completing a senior project with him. I’d been the one to ruin our relationship by pursuing something with Patrick. If I felt awkward visiting him in this treatment facility, then I would embrace every second of it. I felt that I needed to be punished for what had happened, and this happened to fit the bill.
    Part of me wanted to call Patrick and get his take on things, but I wanted to get out of the habit of reaching out to him. He said he wanted to be a support system for Shawn, and that he would always think fondly of me, but I knew he was forever traumatized by Shawn’s reaction to our being together romantically…as was I.
    No, I had to deal with this alone. I needed to be an adult about it. I needed to suck it up and get it over with, just like a dentist’s appointment. I never thought I’d be comparing seeing my former best friend with a necessary but hated procedure, but there it was. I flat out didn’t want to go.
    The days passed quicker than I wanted them to before the date we had agreed to meet. I had to take several buses until I got to where I needed to go, hiking up a long hill from the bus stop until I reached a lush, gated driveway. I had to ring the buzzer and state my name and purpose before I was admitted.
    It was different from what I expected when I tried to picture a treatment facility for people like Shawn. There were people dotting the emerald lawn, lounging on benches and blankets, tossing Frisbees and kicking soccer balls around. The landscaping was fantastic, and it reminded me of the botanical gardens I’d visited when I first moved to the city. The main building of the facility was an old, rambling manor that had been obviously loved and cared for over the years. I wandered inside and was greeted with friendly smiles from people in both uniforms and street clothes. I realized that there wasn’t a standard dress code for the people seeking care here. It was nothing like Hollywood had led me to believe. I was almost embarrassed by my first thought of shuffling and bathrobes. 
    Then, there was a tap on my shoulder as I signed in.
    I whirled around, nervous, but was greeted by the sight of Shawn. He looked good—different, somehow, but good. His dark hair had been closely cropped, and he had a scruffy beard that looked good on him. His eyes were the deep, soulful brown that I knew—not the flat, dull color like when he’d been high or drunk during our last few encounters.
    I couldn’t help myself and didn’t know how it would be taken, but I had to do it. I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. He