Now wasn’t the time to break it. Not until this whole mess was fixed.
“Don’t get mad, Ash,” Henry said. “It was just an idea.”
“A terrible idea.”
“Fine.” He sighed. “It’s through here.” He led us around the corner to a narrow entrance next to a bakery. The building was four stories, all clean stone and iron balconies.
My phone buzzed again, and I stopped to check it. “I’ll wait for you down here.”
“No, you won’t. You’re coming upstairs. I have a surprise for you.”
I exhaled but caught the look in his eyes—the one that said I had no shot of getting out of this. Resigned, I smiled and nodded for him to lead the way.
“Promise it’ll be worth it,” he said in a singsong voice.
We stepped into the building’s cool, marble-lined lobby—quiet and shaded. The walls were pale stone with gold-edged mirrors, and the scent of wood polish and something floral hung in the air.
Henry hit the call button, and the elevator arrived with a soft chime and a creak of effort. One of those old ones—gated, with a wrought-iron door you had to slide across by hand. Theinterior was wood-paneled, small enough that we had to stand close, shoulder to shoulder. The ride up was slow, the elevator groaning faintly as we passed each floor.
“You really know how to keep a guy in suspense,” I said.
Henry smirked, eyes fixed ahead. “You’ll thank me.”
The elevator jolted to a stop, and the door opened with a metallic rattle. He stepped out, keys already in hand, and led me into his apartment.
The place was chaos—boxes stacked high, with barely any walking room in between.
“You know, there are people who can help you unpack.”
“They’re not mine,” he said with a shrug. “This was an unforeseen problem.”
I spotted his things underneath the boxes, mostly unpacked. Curious.
“Babe, I’m home!” he called out.
My eyebrow arched. “You’re dating someone already?”
He turned with a grin threatening to split his face. “Why would that be a surprise for you?”
I was about to answer when a door at the back of what had to be the living room swung open.
And he walked out.
My heart stopped dead in my chest.
“Fucking finally, Henny.” The voice was rough, low, and familiar. “I needed to see the landlord—like ten minutes ago. Can’t do lunch. I’ll meet you for a drink later, yeah?”
He didn’t look up. Just sat on the sofa, pulling on his shoes, tying the laces like this wasn’t the most important fucking moment of my life. Like I wasn’t standing there, breathless, because afterfour years, Ethan Bennett was in the same room as me.
Four fucking years.
And time had only worked in his favor.
My eyes dragged over him—his tanned arms, the lean muscle lining them, his elegant hands, and that sharp jaw. His hair—god,his hair—was damp and curled messily across his forehead, longer than I’d ever seen it.
The only thing I hadn’t seen was his eyes.
I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding for hours, though it had only been seconds. “Well… aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
