Read Ignited & Unhinged (Billionaire Secret, Book One)(Billionaire Romance, New Adult Romance, College Romance) for Free Online Page B

have to sleep with wet hair and straighten it in the morning.
    Fifteen minutes later I’m in bed. Drifting to sleep, thinking of musty libraries and magic skylights.
     
    Mickey’s is an upscale diner known for its burgers and breakfast items.
    It is one of those mysterious places with a secret menu and a five star chef on the premises.
    No one knew why a college diner would have a world-renowned staff or why it worked so well, but it was supposed to be amazing.
    I was glad to try something new regardless of whatever happened with Damon.
    What a strange thought…no matter how the date went, I’d get a good meal?
    Maybe I was a little nervous.
    I arrive just on time.
    The floor is made of black and white checker tiles.
    The tables and booths are red.
    The walls are lined with black and white photographs of old sports teams from The College, some of them dating back to the late 19th Century.
    I scan the tables until I see him staring at me from a back booth.
    He makes no move to wave me over, he just stares at me intensely.
    Wow .
    He’s even better looking in daylight, which is saying a lot.
    He stands up to kiss me on the cheek.
    I slide in opposite him.
    He’s wearing a green short sleeved polo shirt and dark wash jeans. Even the casual, preppy look suited him.
    I feel like a Plain Jane in my dark skinny jeans, tall black boots, and magenta top.
    “So this is how you look in the morning.” He shoots me a wry smile.
    And then continues, “I wasn’t sure you would show up since you slipped out so stealthily last night.”
    “Was I stealthy? I clearly didn’t succeed in not waking you since you texted me ten minutes after I’d left.”
    “Your absence was noticed,” is all he says, before looking down to examine the menu.
    “This place has great food. You can’t go wrong. It’s one of my favorites,” he changes the subject quickly.
    “Well that’s good, because I’m starving,” I say under my breath.
    The menu is made of a leather folio with expensive linen paper. Something you would find at a fancy French restaurant, not a college diner.
    My stomach growls. Quickly, I find what I’m looking for so my eyes can get back to his face.
    “I think I’ll go with an omelet. I could have breakfast all day long,” I say closing the menu and setting it on the table.
    He mirrors my gesture, “Same here. That’s one of the reasons I like this place so much, you can get an omelet until they close at 3AM.”
    He lowers his face, but keeps his eyes on me. “An excellent way to fortify your body for…” his thumb grazes his lower lip suggestively, “…late night activities.”
    His eyes bore into mine.
    I feel his leg brush against my knee under the table.
    Slow and deliberate.
    The contact gives me butterflies.
    “Good to know. I’ll add it to my list of late night food places.” I smile back, determined to be cool even though I was starting to feel hot.
    “My suitemates and I are making a list.” That sounded less cool.
    “Didn’t they include that kind of information in your freshmen packet? Places to eat, places that deliver, places that are open late…?” He raises an eyebrow.
    “Yeah, I guess they did.” I nod. “But we like to compile our own data,” I answer in a mock business tone.
    The waiter arrives and takes our order. Our glasses are filled with cucumber water before he leaves.
    The water is delicious, I’d never tried throwing cucumber slices in before. Very refreshing.
    “So how are you feeling this morning?” He’s watching me carefully. Eyes scrunched together like he’s trying to figure something out.
    “Fiiine.” I let the word drag on like I’m not sure why he would need to ask. “How are you feeling today?”
    I clearly have no idea where this is going.
    “Well you did sneak out.”
    “I didn’t sneak out. I thought I was being considerate by not waking you. Plus, I wanted to sleep in my own room.”
    He looks away from me dismissively. “Yeah, OK.”
    He doesn’t