"Probably not."
"We're both adults. We can control ourselves."
"Absolutely."
Riley finally met his eyes, and something passed between them—something that said they were both lying through their teeth and they both knew it.
"I should go," she said quietly.
“You don’t have to,” Grant said. He didn’t want her to believe it was just sex.
"You have to work though, right?”
Grant groaned slightly. He loved his job, his family legacy. But he wanted to spend time with her. “Yeah, I have to get the lot opened. Soon."
"I'll see you tonight? At the tree lighting?"
"Yeah. I'll pick you up. Six-thirty?"
"Perfect." Riley headed for the ladder, then stopped. "Grant?"
"Yeah?"
"We're okay, right? This doesn't—it doesn't make things weird?"
Everything is weird now.
"We're good," he said instead. He managed a smile. “Promise.”
"Good." She climbed down the ladder, and Grant heard her car start a few minutes later.
Grant stood alone in the loft, surrounded by sawdust and the smell of sex and Riley's perfume still clinging to the blanket.
His phone buzzed.
Riley: Just so we're clear…that was a one-time thing.
Grant stared at the message, jaw clenched.
Grant: Crystal clear.
Riley: Good. See you tonight for the tree lighting.
Grant: See you tonight.
Grant tossed his phone onto the couch and sat down hard, his head in his hands.
One-time thing.
Just physical.
Getting it out of their systems.
All lies. Every word.
Because nothing about the way he felt was temporary. Nothing about this morning had been just physical. And his system sure as hell wasn't satisfied—if anything, touching Riley again, being with her like that, had only made it worse.
He'd spent ten years getting over Riley Monroe.
