And I won’t. Not until I have her again.
Until she’s under me.
Over me.
On me.
Wrapped around me.
Moaning my name like it’s a mantra, and the one thing keeping her grounded while I drive her higher.
Because whatever this thing is between us?
It’s not cooling off.
And I don’t want it to.
Jackson watches me a beat longer, then says quietly, “For what it’s worth, I’m happy for you, man. I know what Chloe and I did was messed up. I won’t apologize for loving her, but the deception was wrong. You didn’t deserve that.”
He stands, brushing imaginary lint off his pants. “So yeah. Hope this thing with Rorie works out for you in all the best ways.”
And then he walks out.
No smirk. No dig.
Just truth.
Weird.
“Nolan!”
Tammy’s voice yanks me out of my head like a hook to the spine. She’s standing in the doorway, clutching a binder and wearing her signature sunbeam grin that usually makes the world manageable.
Not today. I have too much in my head to truly appreciate it.
“Meeting room in five.” She breezes in and slaps the binder down on my desk. “You and the team. Cross prep.”
Fantastic. More pressure. Just what I need.
“You okay? You look like you spent the night trying to decode a woman and lost the will to live halfway through.”
“Close.” I rub my eyes. “Just need caffeine. A lot of it.”
“I’ll grab you some.”
She turns to go, but I stop her. “Tam?”
She swivels back, eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”
“Send an email to Bone Dust. A polite exit from their campaign. Tell them Rorie Adams from The Laurel Group is better suited.”
Tammy eyes me wearily.
I lean back in my chair and exhale hard. “Oh, and I need you to send Rorie something.”
Tammy’s brows shoot up. “Why, exactly?”
Nodding, I rub the back of my neck.
