Visualize how the battle will go down.
She pictured waking up in the morning. Going through the day, carefully avoiding Track. She made mental notes about the possible points of intersection in their schedules and imagined Dean neatly moving her down another hallway, ducking her into a secret nook, pressing her against the wall…
Her eyes flew open.
No.
She tried again, her heart thumping in her chest. Avoiding Track all day, having a great performance. She could hear the crowd applauding, feel the rush of patriotic pride. Tears pricked the back of her eyelids as she smiled.
Yes. She wanted that. Wanted tomorrow to be a good day with no conflict, so once she was finished the concert, she could stand with her bandmates and watch the fireworks burst high above the Washington Monument.
A warm, bubbling excitement started low in her belly. This could work. She let the visualization bloom to a full, three-dimensional movie in her head. The warm night. The roar of the crowd. The celebration.
Turning in the safe circle of Dean’s arms. Tipping her face up to see him wink at her.
This time she didn’t open her eyes. And when he lowered his head to hers, she imagined what it would be like to kiss him.
Yes. She wanted that, too.
She was screwed.
Chapter Ten
DEAN wokeup before dawn and hit the gym.
After four brutal arm sets, he still didn’t feel better about the night before.
What the hell had he been thinking, getting that close to her? She didn’t need him to kiss her damn forehead or anything else. She needed him to watch her back.
When his biceps burned so much he thought he couldn’t lift any more, he dropped to the ground and made himself do another ten push-ups.
Then he stalked back to his room and took a cold shower, leaving his phone on the counter where he could see it if Liana woke up.
She didn’t message until he was out of the shower, drying off. And just the simple pop up of her name on his screen made his dick pulse.
He was going to hell.
She’s vulnerable. Don’t be an asshole.
This wasn’t like him. He was a serial, casual monogamist. He didn’t date needy women, and he didn’t get involved in anything messy. He found someone who liked him and appreciated the physical release they could find together a few times a month.
It had been nearly a year since his last relationship ended, although he’d had a nice weekend in the fall with an ex-girlfriend who needed a plus-one for an event.
It had been too long since he’d gotten laid, and Liana was gorgeous.
And smart. And funny.
And off-limits.
A client.
High-profile.
Drama city.
Wounded and fragile.
He could make a list of all the reasons she was wrong for him. He just had, and now the words scrawled through his head in technicolour.
