Because this feels too good.
Too perfect.
And in my experience, when things seem too good to be true…
They usually fucking are.
But as Nitro pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around, never letting go, I decide that maybe, just this once, I can be fearless.
Maybe I should believe that this is real.
That he’s real.
That we’re real.
Even if it scares me.
No, especially because it scares me.
Because some things, some people, are worth the risk.
Nitro bends over to his wallet to pull out another condom for round two, and I know that…
He’s worth every damn risk.
Chapter Nineteen
MARLEY
It’s Monday afternoon, and I am standing outside the glass doors of Blackwell Entertainment Group, my heart trying to escape through my ribs.
The glass monstrosity towers above me, all sleek modern lines and reflective windows catching the morning sun.
This is my shot at something better.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes.
Nitro the Nice Uber Guy:You’ve got this, Small Town. They’d be idiots not to hire you.
Me:What if I mess this up?
Nitro the Nice Uber Guy:Then you’ll improvise. You’re creative and talented as all hell. Trust yourself the way I trust in you.
The words settle warm in my chest, so I take a deep breath and push through the doors.
The lobby steals my breath with its soaring ceilings, contemporary art, and a waterfall cascading down one wall. Everything screams success, innovation, and creativity.
Nothing like Derek’s sterile office prison.
“Marley Wren?” A woman in a tailored navy dress extends her hand. “I’m Sophia Hanson, Mr. Blackwell’s executive assistant. We’re so excited you’re here.”
She leads me to a conference room where four people wait—Michael, the current Creative Director, Hailey from Digital Marketing, David, VP of Brand Strategy, and Kara, Director of Content Creation.
“Tell us about yourself,” Hailey asks warmly. “What drew you to advertising?”
The question is easy, and I begin talking about creating imaginary ad campaigns as a kid, about discovering I could turn ideas into something tangible, something that made people feel. And they listen. Actually listen, not with barely concealed impatience like Derek’s colleagues, but with genuine engagement.
“I believe good advertising tells a story,” I say, finding my rhythm. “People connect with stories. They remember how you made them feel.”
