I shift, desperate to escape the pull of the fantasy, but it’s relentless. She’s in my head now—her body pressed against mine, my hand gripping her waist, her warmth, her softness—her mouth inches from mine as she whispers more recklesswords, daring me to cross that line. I can almost feel her heat against my palm, the way her body would react, tense and then relax in surrender.
Every forbidden thought crashes into me, turning her smartass comment into a goddamn temptation. I shouldn’t want this. I can’t. But in my mind, she’s no longer just pushing boundaries—she’s daring me to break them. This has never happened before. I pride myself on being able to separate work from personal.
I grit my teeth, trying to ground myself in reality, but all I see is her, tangled in my sheets, a soft gasp on her lips as she arches her body into mine.
The need to hold her under me, to claim her in ways I can’t even justify, roars through me, and I clench my fists tighter, holding back the impulse to drag her into my arms and show her what happens when she pushes me too far.
Get it together, Ryder.
Six
CORA
Iloop my arm through Arlo’s, plastering a wide smile on my face. The pulsing bass of the club music vibrates through my bones, and the scent of perfume and alcohol hangs heavy in the air.
I had debated with myself for hours whether I should come alone tonight. The rational part of me warned against getting my hopes up again, against opening myself to potential hurt. But in the end, I couldn't just give up. I need to give Arlo—give us—an opportunity to see what could be. After all, doesn't everyone deserve a second chance?
Isn't that what love is truly about? Being vulnerable, accepting our imperfections, and still choosing to stay? None of us are flawless, and it's in our messy, authentic selves that we find genuine connection.
“Cora Valeur plus one,” I announce to the bouncer at the entrance, my voice pitched to carry over the thrum ofmusic.
His gaze flicks between Arlo and Ryder, who towers behind me like an ominous shadow.
“My bodyguard,” I murmur, and he nods, stepping aside to let us pass. Thank God these high-end places are used to the rich and their security details. No repeat of the gym fiasco.
A few days in, and Ryder's already made me want to crawl under a rock. Twice. How am I supposed to endure this man's presence without either wringing his neck or bursting into flames from sheer exasperation? At this rate, it's a toss-up which will happen first.
I even tried pleading my case to Dad last night, insisting I don't need a walking, glowering shadow. But no, Storm Security had to go and drop their trump card. Ryder was the one who saved the life of the famous Aiden Levine. That little tidbit sealed my fate. Dad, starstruck, insisted it had to be Ryder. No substitutions, no returns. So here I am, stuck with Mr. Charm-and-Sunshine himself, courtesy of one obsessed father and an apparently legendary save from a coupleof years ago.Lucky me.
My silver cocktail dress catches the club’s strobing lights, its thousands of beads creating a hypnotic geometric pattern. The asymmetrical cut exposes one shoulder, with an additional slit teasing at the neckline. Delicate chains of miniature gemstones tumble from the dress’s collar, cascading over my bare skin.
“What is this place?” Arlo whispers as we move inside, his breath warm against my ear. “You didn’t tell me where we were going.”
“I said we were going dancing. It’s a club.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“With a guest list?”
“It’s Jill’s belated debutante ball. Okay, so not exactly a ball, but you get the picture.”
“Jill? The brunette?”
“Yes.”
“Remind me what she does again?”
“She’s between jobs right now,” I reply, tension creeping into my voice.
Arlo’s face twists. “Of course.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She’s hosting an event that likely costs a fortune.” His eyes sweep the opulent surroundings as if tallying the expense. “But she doesn’t even work. There are people who can’t afford food. How does that make any sense?”
“In my world, it does.” I struggle to maintain my smile as rage simmers beneath the surface. Jill and I have been inseparable since childhood. Sure, she comes from money and has a spotty employment record, but her heart is pure gold. “I’m sure she donates plenty.” Arlo doesn’t even know her. What right does he have to judge?
I straighten my spine and shake off these thoughts. This isn’t the time or place. I’m here to celebrate with my best friend, and that’s what I’m going to do.
The venue strikes a delicate balance between traditional opulence and modern flair. Crystal chandeliers dangle from the vaulted ceiling, but they’re interspersed with sleek, color-changing LED installations. The walls, adorned with ornate gilded mirrors, are washed in soft, shifting hues of lavender and rose gold.
