Christ, I’m acting like an idiot.
Lifting my chin, I step onto the car. He follows a half second later and a heartbeat after that, the doors slide closed.
Leaving me trapped with him.
Yup. This is a nightmare.
He lifts an arm, presses a button on the control panel.
“What floor?” he asks.
I blink, momentarily distracted by the way his suit caresses the ridges and valleys of his chest, his shoulders, his arms. “Wh-what?”
“I asked what floor you’re on, cookie.”
Fuck. I’m still acting like an idiot. Shoving that down, I grind my teeth together, lean forward, and jab at the button for my floor.
Or I start to, anyway.
Because I make it about halfway there before I realize…
The button for the top floor has already been pushed.
My head whips toward Jace’s. He’s got an expectant expression on his face, and confusion is creeping in.
Probably because it’s not that hard to name a number or press a button.
It’s just…my floor is pushed already.
By him.
Because he’s going tohisfloor.
Which, apparently, ismyfucking floor.
Nightmare. Yup.
This is a total freaking nightmare.
Four
Jace
The universe is fuckingwith me.
Or maybe…it’s on my side.
Likereallyon my side.
Because I seem to know something that Marie doesn’t.
There are only two apartments on this floor—the top floor. One is mine, a penthouse suite that takes up three-quarters of the level. The other…I fight a smile as we get off the elevator, as I trail her down the hall to the door closest to us.
And she glares at me over her shoulder the whole way.
“I don’t need you to walk me to my door,” she grinds out.
“I know,” I say, still lazily trailing her. “But it turns out that my door”—I jerk my chin beyond her—“is after yours.”
