Failure to Match (Bad Billionaire Bosses, #2)

by Kyra Parsi

We’d made a pact eight years ago to pass away in our sleep together, holding hands, in the retirement home we’d spent a decade wreaking awesome havoc on. Like the chaotic best friend version of The Notebook.

As the wise old karmic saying went: fuck around and find out.

“Mr. Sinclair, a fair warning, I’m sick of your shit and half the reason I agreed to do this was to make your life as miserable as you’ve made ours over the last eight months. You don’t scare me.”

“I can make you sushi all the time.” “You just said you don’t enjoy cooking.” “Hate it. It’s a complete waste of time.” He tossed the towel he’d used to dry his hands and wedged himself between my dangling knees again. “But if it made you happy, I’d do it.”