A corner of his mouth twitches. “And?”
“And it’s…” I search for the right word and come up empty. Thoughts and memories collide at once. Cheap apartments with peeling paint, nights spent shivering under thin blankets, learning young that nothing was ever guaranteed. “Different,” I finish.
Something flickers in his eyes, like he heard everything I didn’t say.
“Different doesn’t sound like a complaint.”
“It’s not.” I look back out at the city, leaning forward on my elbows over the pool’s infinity edge. “It all just feels a little too easy to get used to.”
His expression hardens. “That’s how it gets you.”
The space between us feels smaller now. Or maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe it’s just the way his attention presses in on me, like he’s using it to avoid something else.
For a split second, I want to close the distance. To see if the pull I feel is real. To find out if he’s as dangerous as he seems.
Then, his knee brushes mine beneath the water. It’s brief, maybe accidental, but I swear I feel a spark. A jolt of electricity that bursts straight up my spine.
He stills immediately. Doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t move closer. Just waits.
My breath is caught in my throat. My pulse pounds in my ears.
I push gently away from the edge, widening the space between us again. Not much. Just enough to make the choice clear.
It was only one night.
He was just a mark.
Wecan’tdo this.
I’m here for a job.
Locke watches me the entire time. Something dark and wild passes through his expression. It’s gone just as quickly as it came, sealed away behind that infuriating calm.
“Careful,” he says quietly. “This place has a way of making people forget themselves.”
I force a soft laugh. “Trust me. I’m very good at remembering who I am.”
His gaze drops then, dragging over my lips, my throat, the bare skin above the waterline. It lasts less than a second. But it tells me everything.
“Good,” he says, voice rougher now.
He pushes off the edge first, his jaw tightening as he does it. He’s creating even more space between us. Still, his eyes linger on me. For a heartbeat I want to reach for him, but I don’t. I can’t.
Despite the tension coiling between us, for now, I’m just floating. Letting the water hold me, letting the lights of the city, and him, fade into the night.
The next morning, the smell of coffee pulls me out of sleep. As I roll over to check the time, sunlight flashes off the infinity pool beyond the glass door, bright enough to make me squint.
I’m still here.
I’d almost convinced myself that last night was just a dream. That I’d wake up in my own bed to the sound of Zoe getting ready for school while Lexi packs her lunch.
But no, I’m here. Which meanshemust be somewhere in this house, too.
I swing my legs out of bed, my bare feet landing on the cool floor, and only then do I remember I’m wearing nothing but a lacy black thong. For a second, I toy with the idea of walking around like this.
Maybe Locke isn’t even home. Doesn’t he have some high-profile PR crisis to manage? I dismiss the thought just as quickly as it came, reaching for the silky white robe draped over a hook near the tub. I slip it on, wrapping the belt tight around my waist.
As I move down the hall, most of the doors are closed. Though one is cracked just enough for a sliver of warm light to spill across the cold gray tile.
