Her eyes look ready to shoot flames—but I don’t give a damn. All that matters is she’s here with me.
“I’m not going back to your house.”
“Fine,” I concede. “Your address, then.”
“You haven’t gotten it yet? I thought you and my brother knew everything about my life.”
“When I saw your note, I came straight here. I only found out you slipped past security yesterday.”
“I didn’tslip pastanyone.”
“No? What do you call sneaking out the back entrance of your building? You want to be treated like an adult? Then act like one.”
“I was upset with you,” she says defensively. “I still am, if you haven’t noticed. Besides, I gave my address to my brother. Ethan knew where I was moving.”
I try to act like the blow doesn’t hit me, but it does. A double hit. From her, because she didn’t bother to tell me where she was going, and from Ethan, because even knowing there’s something between us, he didn’t tell me where she was. He knows me. He knew that when I got home and didn’t find her, I’d lose my fucking mind.
“Just drop me off in front of my building,” she bluffs, because we both know there’s no chance in hell of that happening.
“I’m coming up.”
“We’re not . . .I’m not . . .If you think . . .”
I haven’t even pulled out of the driveway yet, waiting for her to give me the address. I don’t bother responding; I just raise an eyebrow, showing her I don’t believe a single word she’s saying. Hell, I’m not even sure she believes it.
Finally, she leans over and starts typing the address into the car’s GPS screen. Then she grabs her phone, apologizing to Theo for leaving him behind—and I can hear him laughing on the other end.
As soon as I start driving, she turns her face sharply toward the window.
Yeah, I know I’m dead wrong here. But I can’t think straight right now. Sure, I could blame it on all the shit going on: the frustration of watching that damn organization slip through my fingers, dealing with the kids when I usually keep everything impersonal. But the truth? The thing really keeping me up at night isher.
I’ve always thought of myself as cold. Emotionally immune. But ever since Lilly truly came into my life, I haven’t been able to keep that usual indifference.
“You shouldn’t have acted that way at the party,” she finally says. I stay quiet, waiting. “You made it seem like there was something between us. We haven’t even made it official, and now it’s over.”
“They won’t think anything but the truth. There issomethingbetween us.” I repeat her words, emphasizingsomethingto make sure she catches the irony.
She huffs, annoyed, and that just draws me in more. As crazy as it sounds, I want all of Lilly. Even her anger.
Her new place is close to ours, about a five-minute drive, and in a way, it eases me knowing I can reach her easily if needed.
I know she’s right to want to take her first steps on her own—but the reasons that pushed her to move out are eating me alive.
“Do you have parking?”
She nods, still looking pissed. But she picks up the phone and calls what I assume is the front desk of her building.
A few moments later, we’re outside, waiting for the garage door to open.
I park and get out of the car. I go around to her side because I can feel she’s about to bolt.
Her hand in mine, I let her lead the way to the elevator. Inside, she pulls away from me, and even though it pisses me off, I let her. For now.
I lean back against the wall, watching her body language, but quickly lose focus when I catch the rise and fall of her breasts in the dress.
The sight hypnotizes me, because I remember the feel of those nipples on my tongue.
Fuck.
