Billionaire's Best Friend

I. Enter Aphrodisiac

Nina’s POV:

Enter Aphrodisiac.

A food, drink, or drug that stimulates absolute s****l desire.

Is it possible for food, or even the simple act of eating, put someone in the mood for love?

The answer: Yes.

But not in the way one may think.

Food has not been proven to stimulate s*x organs, but it can suggest s*x to the mind, triggering a heated passion. The brain and body hold a powerful connection. Our minds often trick us, switching on a switch that isn’t meant to be turned on.

He did it, flickering on a switch I never knew existed.

Devilish whispers.

Mischievous icy blues.

Gentle touches.

Intoxicating scent.

Tasteful words.

He left my mouth watering, wanting more.

As I park my faded red Gonda car, I release a breath of relief. Finally, after fifteen minutes of struggles, a few sympathetic looks, and head shaking from strangers. I was able to parallel park my car. I lost count in how much time I forward and reverse and forward and guess what? Reverse.

Previously, I tried my best to avoid going downtown due to its limited amount of parking space and its outrageous charge for parking. But I needed a change of pace today.

Grabbing my cup of overly priced hot coffee, I walked towards the river. I can never comprehend how wealthy individuals can live with themselves, knowing they are charging five whole dollars for a small coffee cup. But, I can’t blame them, I choose to walk into their franchise and whip out my debit card to satisfy my needs simply because I am too lazy to make it myself. I have two coffee machines that collect dust on the back of my shelf.

Pulling out my earphones, I let the sound of music calms me as I took a seat on the wet park bench. Letting out a deep breath, I took a look at my surroundings. Nothing changed. Old man over there is still alive. Cougar lady is still checking out young high school boys. Children over here are still playing without parental supervision.

Here, I am, again. I came to this park roughly a month ago when I had my nervous breakdown about graduating from college. Five years, five long brutal, expensive years, and I still don’t know what to do with my life.

Sometimes, I feel like college is a scam. Anyone who has experienced or is currently experiencing a college student’s wild life knows precisely what I’m feeling.

At the end of a semester, students scramble to create the ideal class schedule or simply sign up for the easiest professor they can find, praying for a D to magically transform into a B, making travel plans they can’t afford but desperately desire, and mending various distant relationships.

Even near graduation, there isn’t a guarantee of a job. After leaving one hell, we transition to a new type of hell, adulthood. Endless application to various employment - many which aren’t even in the field of study of the degree given. Let’s not forget the delightful calls from loan sharks requesting a p*****t, not understanding there are other bills that need to be paid - one-word priority, which bill is more important.

A single term describes us all - Stress.

I’m not sure if it’s the wet, chilly weather or dazzling sun puncturing my eyes, but my bitter self-been surfacing more and more as each second passes. I came realized that high education system is one big-ole’ fraud and adulthood f*****g sucks.

I’ve been coming here nearly every afternoon to calm myself down. As I continued listening to music and staring at who knows what, I saw two figures heading towards me, snapping me out of my emotional rant.

The first guy was a dirty blonde. He was wearing a black t-shirt that shows his biceps with grey sweatpants. Even seating, I can tell he was a tall man, probably around six feet. His skin was light and tan. He was really handsome.

But, the guy next to him undoubtedly caught my attention, due to his overwhelmingly familiar atmosphere. He was slightly taller than the guy jogging beside him. Messy light brown hair that hides his orbs and smooth tan skin. A white t-shirt that held his frame wonderfully.

They are very sexy to the point that it should be illegal. But one question continuously circles my tiny brain: how are they not cold in the middle of January. The further I move into the bench, the more numb my bottom became.

Oh gosh, I am sitting in cold water, that’s currently soaking my jeans. I’m grateful I always keep a pair of sweats in the back of my car.

Suddenly, like an unavoidable bullet, his eyes locked onto mine - Icy blues.

At that unrealistic moment, it was as if the whole world stopped. The edge of his lips curled upward, almost into a smile, but not quite. His broad chest rose, flexing and dropped with brute strength, hot breath mixing with the frosty air. High cheekbones are coloring a light shade of vermilion. The sweats on his face emerge increasingly, traveling down his neck, fusing with his shirt’s collar.

I can hear every cell in my body, screaming at me to jump him, which can lay me a fantastic night in jail as a potential rapist. I can see the headline now - short stump of a female jumps divine treasure.

So, I did what I declare as normal. I slapped my hand on my stupid eyes, pretending something was lurking inside.

I can feel the blood rushing to my face as my right leg starts shaking uncontrollably. Staring at my cell phone, I pretend to text someone. They pass by me, and I can smell sweats and apples, an odd combination.

Looking up, I notice that everyone was staring at them in awe. Of course, they are. They are freaking gorgeous.

I couldn’t help but release a snort. I do not mind being under him and screaming his name while clawing on his broad back, marking my territory.

But, they are women’s worst enemies, capture our hearts, and quickly crush it. I enjoy my heart being in one piece.

I know they are the type of guys who will never notice me; my presence is on the same level as air. Wait, no, I’m below the air. They need air to breathe.

Of course, I would never be anywhere near them or even speak to them. I have a boyfriend who loves and cherishes me. But, it doesn’t hurt to check them out. It’s not like I’m cheating on my boyfriend. I can feel smirking as I start staring at their ass, their lovely ass.

After all, I’m only human.

The next day, I decided to go back to the park. I failed my Chemistry exam. I need this. As I look up at the grey sky, I silently curse God for not giving me a photographic memory. But it isn’t his or her fault. I probably should’ve studied in advance.

Inhaling a deep breath, I sat down at my usual stop and put on my earphone. Going through my playlist, I played a random song and started zoning out. My brows furrow when I saw a tall figure approaching me. Putting on my glasses, a gorgeous sore came into sight.

Icy blue eyes.

Why is he here?

Standing in front of me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black sweats. Tip of his tongue tracing along his dry peeling lips, wetting them, biting gently.

He clears his throat a few times, “Hi.”