“Maybe I have you fooled.”
She tilted her head, her smile tugging at the corner of her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her gaze. “I don’t think so.”
I couldn’t formulate a response. Not when she was this close. Everything about her was intoxicating. Maybe it was the expensive perfume she wore, or those brown eyes that reminded me of melting chocolate. Or how in her silk pajamas, I could almost catch a teasing glance of her cleavage, the very idea driving my imagination wild.
My tongue, running down her neck.
Fingers on the buttons of her top.
Her mouth on mine, a hand in my hair, pulling hard.
I wanted to touch her, and not for the first time. Not even for the second. I wanted to know her body, her taste. Every single fucking inch of her.
“Chloe.” My name on her lips sounded rough. Breathless. Like she too couldn’t inhale fully while we were this close. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t wait any longer, as I lifted my hand, brushing a stray hair from her cheek, my fingers grazing her skin. She froze, but she didn’t pull away.
Her breath hitched at the contact. So did mine.
“Chloe,” she whispered again, the word so quiet it was almost swallowed by the night. Her voice pulled me from the spell.
“Yeah?”
“Are you...” She trailed off, catching on my curiosity. I looked up at her but was quickly pushed out of the dream at the sight of panic in her eyes. I pulled my hand away from her.
I opened my mouth to apologize. We had clear boundaries. We were working together. Oh God, technically, I was her employer. The realization hit me like a lightning strike, straight to the heart. For once, I didn’t have a sarcastic reply or a witty deflection. All I could do was look at her, my own panic matching hers.
“I think I should go,” she said.
Five words that sliced deeper than I thought possible.
I tried to speak, but a rasping noise came out instead, words difficult on my tongue. Swallowing them down, I managed, “Yeah, I mean... I should probably get some sleep,” as if I really thought sleep was likely anymore. “I’ll see you tomorrow, for the bracelet.”
“Yep,” Inés said, pushing up from the bed. I followed her to the door, every inch of space between us feeling torturous.
She pulled the door open, looking over her shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Chloe.”
And then she was gone. I merely stood there, the door softly clicking closed behind her, as I stared at the space she used to occupy.
I was fucked.
26
Inés
BITTERSUITE—Billie Eilish
Murphy vs Nagy
Semi-final—Stadium Court
“Coming through!” I shouted, weaving through the warm-up area at a full sprint. Players and coaches turned to glare as I dodged around them, narrowly avoiding a collision with a guy carrying a cage of tennis balls. The stitch in my side a cruel reminder of how late I was.
I caught a glimpse of the digital clock on the wall and swore under my breath.
I was really fucking late.
I slammed through the changing-room doors.
“Chloe?” My voice echoed against the tiled walls, frantic as my gaze darted from one section to the next, heart pounding.Where the hell was she?I yelled her name again, my fingers clenched tightly around the bracelet in my hand. I had promised her I’d be there. I couldn’t mess this up.
