After talking to the security team Blood picked to keep eyes on her here at the house, I turn off the engine and drop my head to the steering wheel, bracing myself for what I’m about to walk into.
Every interaction we’ve had so far has been charged with sexual tension. And now, after a long drive, exhausted, high on jealousy, I feel volatile.
I’d like to say it’s just anger. It’s not. It’s anticipation. Every nerve in my body is buzzing.
When I step into the house, the lights are on. I can feel her presence before I even see her.
Lilly is light. She leaves traces of herself in every room she touches.
I expected to find her in the main living room, but instead, heavy rock music is blasting from upstairs.
I check the time. Almost ten. She’s clearly not sleeping. Sounds like she’s throwing a damn party.
I climb the stairs. I check the rooms until I find hers—just two doors down from mine.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I see.
Lilly is standing in the middle of the room, her back to me, wearing nothing but a towel.
I inhale sharply. The sight of her half-naked makes my blood boil.
“Where were you last night?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady—though I already know exactly where she was.
She spins around, clutching her chest, pale as a sheet. “Jesus Christ! Okay, now I know I’m not prone to heart attacks. You nearly killed me, Amos!”
“Answer me, Lilly.” My eyes betray me. I should look away, give her privacy, but I don’t.
She stares at me carefully, but it’s not the towel that’s making her nervous—it’s my tone. “At a bookstore.”
“Alone?”
She lifts her chin. “What’s with the interrogation? I thought I was an adult, not a prisoner.”
I step fully into her space, knowing damn well how stupid that is. “Tell me. Who were you with, Lilly?” I always thought I was immune to jealousy. Apparently not. The idea of her with another man snaps something in me.
She draws in a few shaky breaths, cheeks flushed. “I met a guy. We had dinner.”
A murderous possessiveness fills my chest.
Then she adds, “He’s gay.”
And just like that, the storm quiets inside me. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I was ready to go hunting for an imaginary rival. The adrenaline, the jealousy, the relief—it’s all crashing into me.
I step closer, face inches from hers. “Don’t ever disappear like that again.”
This is when she should back away. But she leans in instead, our skin brushing.
And I go rock hard instantly.
“I didn’t disappear. You’re overreacting.”
Of course I am. But logic doesn’t stand a chance around her. I force myself to step back. “Get dressed. We need to talk.”
She moves toward me again. Closer than she should. I want to look away from her still-damp body—but I can’t. “Why are you so worked up over me, Amos?”
“Get dressed, Lillyana.”
“Why?”
