Page 88 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

I glanced at him, half-expecting a smirk or a jab, but his expression was uncharacteristically serious. “You giving me relationship advice now? That’s new.”

“Just saying,” he replied, shrugging. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who lets people in easily. Hell, I’ve known you for years and I still don’t know half of what goes on in that head of yours. If she’s got you talking like this, maybe she’s worth hanging onto.”

He wasn’t wrong. Portia had slipped past the walls I’d spent years building without even trying. It scared the hell out of me sometimes, but there was no denying she’d become a part of my life I didn’t want to lose.

“We’ll see,” I said. “See if she figures out I really am that asshole everyone else sees.”

He laughed. “I’m sure she’s already seen it. You said you’re official. Is it like meet-the-parents official?”

I felt a feeling of dread wash over me. “Tomorrow night, actually. I know them, but tomorrow is the day we’re having dinner as a couple.”

Eddie let out a low whistle. “Damn. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Shut up.”

“Are you nervous about it?”

I rolled the bottle between my palms. “I don’t do family dinners. I’m not sure nervous is the right word.”

“Yeah, well, you do now,” Eddie said, like it was that simple. “Side pieces? No parents. But when she’s your girl?” He shrugged. “Different story.”

The words settled in my chest, warm and unfamiliar. Your girl. I tried to hide my smile behind my beer bottle, but Eddie saw it anyway.

“Look at you,” he teased. “All domesticated.”

I flipped him off, but there was no heat in it.

Eddie just grinned. “So, you gonna bring flowers or something? Maybe a fruit basket? Make a good impression and all that.”

“Flowers?” I scoffed. “What am I, sixteen? Do I look like the kind of guy who shows up with a bouquet?”

He shrugged. “Hey, man, I’m just saying. You show up empty-handed looking like… well, you, her parents might think you’re robbing the place.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered, taking another swig of beer.

“Seriously, though,” Eddie said, his tone shifting. “You need to show up with something. It’s not about the flowers or whatever. It’s about showing you care enough to make an effort. And trust me, parents notice that kind of stuff. You’re basically asking them to hand over their most prized possession.”

I frowned, staring at the label on my bottle. The idea of trying to impress anyone—let alone Portia’s parents—made my skin crawl. But Eddie wasn’t wrong. Portia deserved someone who’d put in the effort, even if it meant stepping out of my comfort zone.

“Fine,” I said finally. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Atta boy,” Eddie said, clinking his bottle against mine. “See? You’re learning already.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

Eddie finished his beer and got to his feet. “I should head out. Rachel’s expecting me.”

“Thanks for stopping by.”

Eddie nodded, his usual smirk softening just a bit. “Anytime. And Dean?” He paused, meeting my eyes. “Don’t fuck up dinner tomorrow.”

I snorted. “No promises.”

I thought about texting Portia to ask what I should bring. She was probably signing the lease on her new office right now. I didn’t want to bother her. And if I asked her what to bring, that would ruin the spontaneity. I had to figure this one out on my own.