Outside, the air’s cool and damp, the kind of night that smells like rain. Olivia’s already walking toward the car, her shoulders tight, her heels striking the pavement faster than her breathing.
“Olivia, wait.”
She doesn’t stop until I catch up and take her hand, my thumb brushing her knuckles. Her skin’s warm but her eyes, when they meet mine, are guarded.
“I never went to her room and she never came to mine. She pulled the same stunt she did in Toronto—just showed up. I fired Patti for that crap. There’s no other way Yasmine would’ve known where I was unless Patti told her. Come to think of it, Patti couldn’t stop apologizing. Never denied it, either.”
She swallows hard, clearing her throat. “Okay, Sam. Really. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”
“What?” I rear back, dumbfounded. “Why would you say that?”
Her lips twitch into a half-smile though void of any kind of humor. “Because we’re casual, remember? No labels. If youhadgone to Vancouver with Yasmine, that’d be fine. None of my business.” She hesitates, glancing away. “And if you’d shared a room…”
She can’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t have to. The lie is written all over her face.
“Olivia.” I inch closer. “We might be casual.” We’re not, but if that’s what she needs to believe right now, fine. “But you still have a right to know. I’d never?—”
Before I can finish, Daniel and Yasmine step out of the restaurant, chatting about something inconsequential. I shut my mouth. This isn’t the time or place.
Yasmine gives us a pointed little smile as she passes. Both Olivia and I thank Daniel for dinner, even as tonight has only given me indigestion, and before he parts, Daniel asks me to call on Monday.
That night, back at my place, words aren’t enough.
We don’t talk about Yasmine, or the dinner, or the bullshit accusation that hung between us. We just move, fast, rough, desperate. Every touch is a question, every kiss an answer neither of us wants to say out loud.
It’s not soft this time. It’s a claiming.
I take her against the fridge, her breath breaking against my neck. Over the sofa, from behind, until her nails scrape down my arms. Then again, on the bathroom counter as we’re getting ready for bed, steam fogging the mirror while her voice echoes my name like a confession.
If Olivia thinks we’re casual, I’ll let her believe it. But my body doesn’t lie, and neither does hers. I want her, completely, recklessly, until she forgets what it felt like not to be mine.
When she comes apart beneath me, crying out my name, the sound tears something open inside me. Knowing I’m the one who does this to her—the one who makes her lose control—wrecks me in the best way. It feeds something primal, something I didn’t know had been starving.
We barely sleep.
Morning creeps in soft and golden, filtering through the curtains and spilling across the bed. The city outside is waking, horns distant, the purr of traffic faint. Inside, it’s quiet. Just us, tangled in sheets, skin warm against skin, the air heavy with the afterglow of too much wanting and not enough sleep.
“I’m sorry about last night.” My fingers trace lazy circles on the smooth skin of her back. “I should’ve canceled dinner.”
She groans, muffled against the pillow. “Can we not talk about it?”
“Okay.” My knuckles brush along her shoulder. “But I do need to thank you…for coming, and for putting up with Yasmine’s bullshit.”
That earns me a half sigh, half laugh. I shift closer, wanting her to see me, to hear what I can’t quite say outright. “I know it probably didn’t look that way, but I don’t like her either.”
That gets her attention. She rolls onto her side, eyes finding mine, wary but curious.
“She’s…a necessary evil.” A dry chuckle scrapes its way up my throat.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
I nod. “Just until this thing with Daniel either becomes a deal or dies. And don’t think I don’t see what’s going on.”
Her brow arches, amusement tugging at her lips. “And what exactlyisgoing on?”
“Yasmine’s making a play. Or trying to. It’s not even about me, honestly—it’s about power. Control. Whatever the hell makes her feel like she’s winning.”
Olivia gives a low, disbelieving laugh. “Oh, don’t kid yourself, this isallabout you.”
