He unlatches his mouth. “Fuck. I think I blacked out.”
I lick my lips and smile. “Well done, Browne,” I say breathlessly, adjusting myself so I face him. “Not bad.”
He huffs a laugh.
I stand, gather my scraps of clothing, and pad over to my coat.
He sits up in the same spot I left him last night.
“You’re leaving again?” His voice is dangerously low.
Shrugging on my coat, I swing open his front door. “Yep. Same time next week?”
His answering growl is all I hear before I slam it shut.
I’ll take that as a yes.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gemma
It’s Saturday night and April and Anna are coming to mine for wine, nibbles, and proper girl time.
While I’m business Gemma during the day, I’ve done my best to create a cozy environment that’s just for me outside the office. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s all mine—a place where the people I love most know they’re always welcome.
It’s a space where Anna and April can kick off their shoes, muddle up a margarita strong enough to strip paint, and belt out our favorite songs.
I grew up with a single mum who made sure my friends always knew they were welcome. My mum is kooky—of course she is, she created me—but her heart is pure gold wrapped in tie-dye fabrics and essential oils. I wanted to carry that love through to my own home.
I spent most of my morning wandering through Borough Market, collecting the good stuff—cold cuts, wedges of cheese, fancy nuts, and dried fruit. I can absolutely nail a charcuterie board.
Since the Gray Hotel campaign launched, my friends and I haven’t had as much time together as usual, especially with April and James trying to pull off a last-minute wedding—which is mental even for a rock star, but somehow, they’re making it work.
I haven’t complained about being busy because it’s given me the perfect excuse to avoid any chance of letting my and Max’s secret slip. Every time Anna’s around, I’m shitting myself about accidentally spilling the beans. The woman knows me better than I know myself, and I’m usually terrible at keeping secrets. But I need to get my act together, because this secret is different. It’s not just about me.
“What does it say?” April leans over so far, her wine sloshes dangerously close to the rim.
“Shit! Watch the sofa!” I warn.
“Oops.” She giggles, carefully placing her wine beside the tarot spread Anna’s got laid out on my coffee table. Naturally, the tarot cards came out the moment we opened the first bottle.
We’re now on our second.
Anna picks up a card, squinting as she flips throughThe Tarot Bibleto decode its meaning.
“Right,” she announces. “It says you’re a massive cunt.”
We lose it, falling into fits of laughter.
“But seriously, what does it say?” April asks, wheezing as she catches her breath.
Anna’s eyebrow kicks up. “You know this is all a load of shite, right?” She gives April a pointed look.
“It is not!” I defend. “Just read the damn meaning.”
Anna rolls her eyes light-heartedly. “The Empress basically says that you’re about to become a domestic goddess or… get pregnant… Or both.”
I pump my eyebrows at April. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”
