“They didn’t tell you?”
His thumb glides across his screen—slow, deliberate, weaponized indifference.
Then he lifts it to his ear and stares straight at me.
“You better not be calling to tell me you can’t make it, Roman.”
That smirk… I could claw it off his face.
He turns, pushes into the office, door swinging shut behind him.
I sag against the wall. My fingers twitch, aching with the urge to grab him by his shirt, haul him close, kiss him until we’re both ruined all over again—or punch him dead in the center of his perfect chest.
Honestly? Toss-up.
My chin trembles. “You can’t tell anyone about the photos,” I whisper… “Besides, it’s over, so there’s no point.”
Oh, but God, it’s not over. Not even close.
Holly’s hand slides into mine. “We won’t say anything.”
Her expression is… pity and horror and girl-coded panic all rolled into one.
“Sierra,” she whispers, “I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head, tears burning behind my eyelids. “Holly—don’t. Just—don’t.”
But she keeps going, because she’s Holly and she’s powered by emotional espresso shots.
“No seriously. Every time Chance said you were different, I wanted to gut him, and you to be honest. Totally not your fault. He has this way of saying things that just make you want to scoop out his balls and turn his bean bag into sausage casings.”
“Sleeping with one eye open tonight now. Jesus, Squirt.”
She aims a look at him over her shoulder. “I never would have done it. Well, not never. You would have had to dosomething really really bad. Like tab A in someone else’s slot B bad.”
His lips twitch and for a second, I’m really fucking resentful of how easy it is for them.
“Thanks for the clarification. Still sleeping with one eye open.”
“Look, I’ll deal with you later,” she tells him with a flip of her hair before turning back to me. “Seriously though, you had a thing for Ch—you know what, never mind. I just, I didn’t realize the whole time you were actually in love with Everett.”
Chance leans against the wall like he’s been assigned emotional security detail.
“I’m not in love with him,” I lie like someone who absolutely is.
Holly arches a brow.
Chance snorts.
I throw my hands up. “I’m not in love with him. I’m not. I’m just—historically compromised!”
Holly winces. “That’s… not better.”
“Also,” I hiss, “did you have to stand right there? In front of the display case? With all of—all of that in your hands? What if you hadn’t heard him approaching until it was too late? What if?—”
“Relax. We’ve got you.” Chance says, calm as ever. “We got them shoved into my pockets before he got close. Besides, lucky for you, sometimes the dude has the observational instincts of a branch manager at Staples.”
I blink at him. “Thank you?”
