Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 33

Wren

"Welcome home, Birdie," Ezra announces the moment we step out of his car.

My jaw drops at the mansion in front of us, greenery lines the house. The sight in front of me dissolves every hurt, and irritation.

"This is your house?" I gawk, eyes wide while Ezra grabs my suitcase from the trunk.

He stands beside me, staring at the gorgeous building looming over us. "It is."

"Just how much money do you have?"

"Honestly?" He tsks. "More than I know what to do with."

He leads me into the house, and if my jaw could drop any lower, it would fall to the floor.

The interior is just as beautiful. A coded door with fingerprint setting, sleek black leather sofas, white tiles and gray marbles.

Flower pots sit at different corners. A liquor cabinet hangs by the dining room. It's just as stunning as his bar, meticulously decorated.

"When did you even get a place?" I ask, taking everything in.

The low temperature cools my skin, the air smells like flowers and luxury.

We head further into the house, and up a swirly staircase.

"It's been two years since I moved in actually," he replies. "Started building when I got my second bar at twenty-seven. It was slow, and then it got fast."

My hands skim the smooth stair railing. "So you moved in at thirty? That's an awesome milestone."

"Thanks," he grins at me. "I'm not a billionaire, but I can boast of a few millions."

I snort. "Definitely not 'a few'. Your house is gorgeous."

"It's now your home too, so please, feel as comfortable as you could." He pushes the door to a room open. "And this is yours."

A large bed sits at the center, with pastel pink sheets. The walls are decorated in pastel colours, a fluffy white rug sits at the foot of the bed.

I raise a brow. "Did you have some company? It's oddly neat."

Ezra parks my suitcase by the white oak desk, and he leans on it with arms crossed.

"I don't bring women to my home," he deadpans. "And the room wasn't too shabby either, although I did do some shopping and cleaning."

A small smile teases my lips. "For me?"

He nods. "Definitely. My room is just opposite yours, if you need anything."

"Thank you, it's beautiful," I say quietly.

All he does is nod again. No words, no comments.

Some part of me hoped that we'd continue where we left off at the hotel yesterday, or that he'd make do on his promise...I guess that's stale news now.

Besides, he was right in the car...we're not together. And we shouldn't be.

He gives me a long look, and my heart pounds until he turns to leave.

"I'll see you down for dinner," he mutters.

"Wait," I blurt. He freezes for a moment then turns to me, face blank. "W-why did you kiss Brittany?"

I know I shouldn't have asked, but it's been eating me up since yesterday.

His eyes pierce into me, warming my skin.

Embarrassment washes over me, but it's too late to take back the question.

I swallow. "I just want to know. That's all."

"If I didn't kiss her, everyone would ask questions."

"And that bothers you?" I frown.

"No," he replies. "But I don't want your brother asking me questions, or sniffing out something suspicious."

My head bobs softly. "I understand. W-what about us?"

If I had a sharpie, I'd sprawl out the word "desperate" on my forehead.

"I don't know, Birdie." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's a tough decision, and an even tougher risk."

"I think we shouldn't." I hold my head high, spine straightening.

He hums in agreement. "You're right, we shouldn't. But living together, unsupervised..."

The words hang in the air, a silent teaser. Or is it a warning?

It hums thickly, like a weight settling...an awareness that we're in fact unsupervised.

My throat thickens, skin prickling. "We'll be fine."

"Let's hope so." His lips twitch. "I'll leave you to it then."

And he walks out, shutting the door behind him. A breath of relief leaves my lungs and I plop down on the large bed, sinking into its fluffiness.

If I don't combust from the sexual tension cackling between Ezra and I, I'll combust from the need to get laid.

Either way, I'll definitely combust.

My phone rings from somewhere in the kitchen, and I go to get it when Ezra brings it to me.

"It's Judi," he tells me, and I mouth a small 'thanks', because he didn't let me go through the stress of reading the screen.

He goes back into the kitchen, leaving the middle door open.

"Hey, Judi! Did you arrive?" I speak into the phone.

The line cackles for a bit before her voice comes in. "Yes, honey. Thank you so much for having me there in New Orleans."

"Oh, it's nothing."

"Have you settled in with Ezra?"

I snort, glancing briefly at Ezra who's typing on the phone by the kitchen send. "I knew that's why you were calling."

"Of course, that's why I'm calling," she laughs. "You're living with that sexy piece of ass, excuse me for craving the details."

"You're despicable." I chuckle, shaking my head.

"I know, I know. So, tell me, how's it's going?"

"Judi, it isn't even up to twenty-four hours."

She huffs. "Fine. But don't leave me out, I beg you. When you guys finally give in to your attraction, tell me please, okay?"

"Okay." I hold back another round of giggles.

"Promise me."

"Jesus, Judi!" I mutter, glancing briefly at Ezra again. He's still occupied with his phone. "I promise."

She makes a sound. "Thank you, honey. Let me get to unpacking. Take care, call me everyday. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Ezra jerks his head to me, and the line goes dead.

Ah, so he's been listening.

He walks into the dining. "Ray says you should call him."

Sighing deeply, I reply. "Okay."

"But first-" he takes a seat opposite me, "we need to set some house rules."

I blink. "Rules? What rules?"

"Rule number one." He taps his phone. "Don't walk around the house without a bra on."