Saved by the Billionaire: A Standalone Billionaire's Second Chance Love Story

The sun was rising, gently pouring into my bedroom.  I stretched out in the sheets, feeling them beneath my fingertips.  They felt better this morning – softer and nicer. 

I had met a boy.

It sounded silly but I had.  Not my type either.  There was no way around the fact he was a dork.  A nerd.  Silly and flustered when he spoke to me, trying to make eye contact but failing because I was a cheerleader.  And I loved it.  He was so adorable that I couldn't stand it.  On a whim and three drinks later, I had given him my number in hopes he'd contact me. 

Now, with a slight hangover, looking at the tree outside my dorm bedroom (a single from some strings my dad had pulled with college admission), I felt excited.  There had been boys since I started college, sure, but not like how I felt with when I had been talking to Chris.

It was strange because the instant attraction to him wasn't even purely physical.  No, he was quite nerdy, more than any other guy I had been attracted to.  But I had busted in late at the party and interrupted him in a spirited debate with one of my casual friends.  And by interrupted I meant I had bashed into him when I wasn't looking, trying to get my coat off of me.

And now, here I was, hoping he would call me but worried that he would be too nervous.  I glanced at my pile of textbooks.  I didn't mean to think of Chris in stereotypes but he would be the type to hang out at the library, right?  What if I tried to run into him?  With no classes today since it was Saturday, I thought I'd try it out.  If it went poorly, I could pretend I was there to study.