My pulse pounds against my ribs as I take the card out and flip it between my index finger and thumb. White words stand out on the black plastic: ‘The Founder’s Suite.’ His room. His bed. That night comes flooding back, and I feel like I might be sick.
Lexi’s face shifts, confusion giving way to understanding.
Her voice is sharp, clipped. “That’shis, isn’t it?”
I swallow hard and nod.
She exhales through her nose, jaw tight, “Okay, not to state the obvious, but that means he knows where we live.”
I give her a blank stare. “Thanks, I couldn’t tell.”
Lexi glances over her shoulder and around the hall. It suddenly feels very empty and a little too quiet. My hand tightens around the key. “Take Zoe inside.”
Lexi hesitates for half a second, her fingers tightening on Zoe’s hand, uncertainty written in her eyes. Without another word, she nudges Zoe through the door, following behind quickly to shut it.
I don’t move. I just stand there, heart hammering in my chest, listening as the latch clicks. Then, I turn slowly, and my breath catches in my throat.
He’s here.
Standing in the stairwell at the end of the hall. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching me with that unreadable expression of his.Has he been there the whole time? Was he just waiting for me to notice?
The air suddenly feels thicker. I lift my chin, fingers squeezing the key card so tightly it digs into my skin. “Stalking me now?” I call out to him.
Locke pushes off the wall, slowly creeping toward me. “Not stalking,” he answers casually, “just waiting.”
My stomach tightens.
He’s getting too close now. Close enough that I can see how his gaze drags over me, slow and completely shameless.
“Breaking into my building?” I challenge.
“Who’s breaking in?” He lifts his eyebrows slightly. “There's no crime in walking through an open door, is there?”
I exhale sharply, rolling my eyes at the audacity of this man.
Locke tilts his head, like he’s still trying to figure me out. Then he smirks. “You’re not running,” he muses.
I refuse to let my expression shift. “Should I be?”
His smile widens as if he’s enjoying this. I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking away. But inside, my pulse is a fucking wardrum. He’s here, in front of me, and my body remembers every second of our night together with brutal clarity.
Locke comes to a stop, inches from me. Then, before I can react, he yanks the key from my hand. The movement is jarring. His fingertips graze mine, and it’s enough to make my skin burn where he touched it. He holds the key between his fingers, studying it for a moment. Then, slips it into his pocket with a soft chuckle.
“I had a lot of thoughts about what I might do when I confronted you.” His voice is smooth, almost venomous. He tilts his head slightly. “Some of them weren’t very polite.” A grin tugs at the corner of my mouth. I can’t help it. He wants control of this moment, but he’s not the only one who knows how to play this game.
So I step closer, just enough to test the tension. To stretch it even tighter. To remind him he’s not the only one who enjoys a thrill. “You?” The sarcasm in my voice shatters the thick silence. “Not polite?” I tilt my head up, giving him a broad smile. I hadn’t quite noticed how much he towered over me until now. “Well, what made you change your mind?”
His gaze flicks lower, slower. I wonder if he remembers that night, like I do. Can he still feel my skin under his hands?
I don’t move.
Neither does he.
For a moment, it feels like time folds in on itself. Like there’s nothing but the air between us, thick and crackling with electricity. Seconds tick by. He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t fidget, doesn’t soften.
Then he says, almost like it’s a simple fact, “I think you might be useful.”
I go completely still, my brow furrowing. “Useful?”
