I couldn't face her questions yet. Couldn't face anyone.
The bathroom door swung open, voices filtering in.
"—never seen Savannah Blake move that fast," someone said with a laugh. Cami's cousin, I thought.
"Did you see her face?" another voice replied. "White as a sheet. Think it was seeing Miles that did it?"
"Had to be. Though Lucas Turner isn’t someone to run from. For a man his age? Total silver fox."
They dissolved into giggles, moving to the sinks.
I remained frozen, barely breathing, until they finally left.
Alone again, I emerged from the stall on unsteady legs.
My reflection in the mirror confirmed what I already knew—all color had drained from my face, leaving my eyes huge and dark against my pale skin.
I looked haunted.
I splashed cold water on my face, trying to regain some composure. Options cycled through my mind: I could leave immediately, make some excuse to Zoe.
I could avoid both Turner men for the remainder of the weekend.
I could pretend nothing had happened.
But I knew the truth would follow me home, would haunt my dreams, would color every future interaction with Miles—professional or otherwise.
I had slept with Lucas Turner.
Had cried out as he'd brought me to heights of pleasure I'd never known existed. Had whispered confessions against his skin that I'd never shared with anyone, let alone his son.
And the most damning truth of all, the one that made my knees weak and my pulse race even now: Given the chance, I would do it again.
That thought, more than any other, sent a tremor racing through my body—a visceral, physical response to a revelation too enormous to process.
My hands gripped the edge of the sink as a wave of dizziness washed over me.
What kind of woman did that make me?
Rather, what kind of woman was I becoming?
Chapter 5
Lucas
Imaintained perfect composure as I walked away from the most impossible situation of my life.
Nodded to John Parker.
Exchanged pleasantries with the mayor.
Declined a mimosa from a passing server with a polite smile.
All while my mind screamed a single, relentless thought: I had slept with my son's ex-girlfriend.
The numbness of shock carried me through the dining room and into the quiet of the hotel lobby.
I checked my watch—8:47 a.m.
