That silence says more than words ever could.
When I finally pull away, I keep my tone light. “So… I was thinking that maybe I could stay the night.”
She hesitates. There’s a flicker of emotion in her eyes. It’s a mix of sadness, regret, and something that feels a little too close to goodbye.
It twists deep beneath my ribs.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she whispers.
The way she shuts me down hits harder than I want to admit. With a forced grin, I lean in for one last kiss.
“Fine. Pretty sure you’ll miss me,” I say, letting the response hang heavy between us. “No one else is going to keep you warm at three a.m.”
She doesn’t answer as I lift her off me and set her on the couch. The silence between us continues to stretch as I rise to my feet, straighten my clothing, and rake a hand through my hair. When it becomes obvious she’s not going to stop me, I walk toward the door and pause in the narrow entryway. It’s tempting to tell her she doesn’t get to end this, but the look in her eyes makes it clear that’s exactly what she’s doing.
The hallway greets me with the overpowering aroma of disinfectant and something stale. None of it is strong enough to drown out the scent of her. It’s still in my head and my clothes. The memory of her warmth lingers like a ghost, and it’s enough to make my pulse trip all over again.
The elevator doors slide shut, sealing me in with my own thoughts. Rather than let them tear circles through my head, I pull out my phone.
Me: I think this woman just tried to break up with me.
It doesn’t take long before Hayes replies. That’s the thing about my family, we’re annoyingly reliable.
Hayes: Doesn’t she realize she’s dating the Big O?
Me: That’s exactly the issue.
Hayes: Lol. I like her already.
Me: Knew you’d say that.
Hayes: Okay, all joking aside. Here’s what you need to do. Be consistent. Show up every damn day until she realizes you’re not just the Big O, you’re the real deal.
I stare at his message for a moment before shoving the phone back into my pocket.
The truth hits simple and hard.
That’s exactly what I need to do with Rina.
Prove I’m not the guy she thinks I am.
9
Rina
I run my palms down the front of my dress one last time, smoothing away imaginary wrinkles before pausing in front of the mirror. The strapless red number hugs every curve while the slit running up my leg is high enough to make a statement without tipping into scandalous territory. Paired with strappy heels and a shimmer dusted across my shoulders, the effect is precisely what I’m going for.
Confident.
Poised.
Unshakable.
It’s the armor I need for tonight, along with a reminder that no one gets to see what’s underneath.
My phone buzzes on the vanity, breaking into my thoughts.
Unknown number: Your car is waiting downstairs.
