I followed her, grin already spreading. “It’s Candace this time,” I tossed back.
Behind me came the muted clatter of boxes, the shuffle of cabinets, the clink of glass.
When I glanced back, he carried the pizza boxes stacked on one arm, the unopened wine bottle tucked against his hip, three glasses hooked in his fingers. Easy. Competent. Ridiculously attractive.
She dropped onto the cushions in a practiced flop, knees tucking under her as she settled. I took the opposite end. He popped the cork with a small flourish and poured each of us a glass. The scent of fruit and oak lifted into the air, twining with the tang of tomato sauce.
Then he sat between us.
The cushion dipped. Heat bled from his body into mine. His knee brushed against me—barely there, enough to short-circuit every thought I had.
Holy hell.
I went motionless, lungs snagging. He did, too—shoulders locked, body mirroring my stillness.
He angled closer, lips forming the words.Is this okay?
I nodded—the tiniest lie.
Candace scrolled until she found the movie and hit play. The room dimmed to the pale blue flicker of the TV.
For a moment, it almost felt normal.
“Jacob is so much better than Edward,” I announced to puncture the tension.
Damien’s lopsided grin surfaced. “Agreed. Edward’s a creep.”
“Exactly. He watches her sleep,” I said, scooping up a stray string of cheese and licking it from my finger. “Obsessive, much?”
He tracked the movement, his mouth parting ever so slightly. A breath slipped in through his teeth before he forced his gaze back to his pizza. “Obsessive isn’t always bad,” he murmured. “Sometimes it can be… romantic.”
“Only if it’s the right obsession.”
“And what—” He started, confusion edging his voice.
“Oh, god,” Candace groaned, cutting me off. “Remember when she just stares out the window for months? So cringe.”
Damien laughed, shoulders shaking, eyes creasing, and I felt a smile stretch across my face before I could stop it.
Time bled forward after that. The bottle drained. The pizza shrank to crusts. Little pockets of laughter softened the room, sanding down the sharpness still clinging to the day.
My phone rang, the name lighting the screen as I rolled my eyes and tossed it to Candace.
“Hey,” she answered, already smiling. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
Damien and I shared a look from the corners of our eyes—mutual dread.
She clicked off and turned to us, beaming. “Garrett’s here,” she announced, bounding off toward the elevator.
I dropped back against the cushions. “He’s coming up.”
“I kind of want to meet him,” he admitted, lifting a shoulder.
I threw him a look that could cut glass. “Why?”
“Well first of all,” he said, stacking plates, “he’s part of your world whether we like it or not. And honestly? I kind of want to see exactly how big of an ass this guy is with my own eyes. Meet the legend himself.”
“You two will be oil and water.”
