CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
NICHOLAS
Clay and I rush out of the hotel so fast the next morning, I barely have time to process the fact that I just had the deepest, most heavenly sleep of my adult life in his arms. With muffins and coffee from the continental breakfast, we chat in his truck and roll back home.
I’m still hazy and warm, practically floating on a cloud when I walk into the shop. The sex I had last night was earth-shaking.
I was fully embodied, fully empowered, and deeply connected to Clay’s pleasure, too. His touch is burned into my sense memory, and the ache where he penetrated me is enough to steal my breath all over again.
It’s just sex, I remind myself yet again. The kind of sex that you fantasize about for the rest of your life.
And you definitely don’t fantasize that you’re on your honeymoon together while you lie in bed the next morning. That would be too much, even though the idea still fills my stomach with butterflies.
It’s natural that I would entertain some fantasies of a swoony, romantic life with Clay. My heart just goes there, even if my brain knows that he doesn’t want it.
“Morning, Kavya,” I say when she steps out of the back. “Sorry I’m a little later than usual.”
Kavya barely arches an eyebrow. She crosses her arms over her chest, and I notice that she’s added floral laces to her black boots, a surprising splash of color.
“What?” I ask.
She accepts the breakfast sandwich I hand her, my apology for showing up late. “Thanks,” she says. “And I didn’t say anything.”
“But you raised your eyebrow.”
She shrugs. “Maybe you’re guilty,” she says dryly. “Do you have something on your mind?”
I squint. “Why would I be guilty?”
Shit. Does she know about Clay? What if people find out, and he reacts badly?
I smile innocently.
“Suit yourself. I’ve been politely ignoring the obvious for weeks. I have my own dating life to worry about. But you should probably prepare yourself for that bubble to burst.” She unwraps the sandwich. “Are you harvesting roses this afternoon?”
I blink as my brain catches up. Clearly, Kavya knows. And she’s telling me other people probably know. I try to formulate a response, but a second later, the door to the shop swings open and Finn walks in.
“Oh. Hi!” I smile. “Morning, Finn. What brings you by?”
He frowns at me. “Did you know that Samira’s ex-girlfriend’s sister got married last week?”
“Um, no? Which ex-girlfriend?”
Finn is wearing a collared shirt with short sleeves, and he pushes them up his arms as he walks toward me. “Arya,” he says, like it proves something.
I look to Kavya. “Can someone tell me what’s going on this morning?”
Kavya walks over to the coffee pot. “Arya’s sister and her new spouse were at a hotel in Niagara Falls last night, and they heard two men banging it out and screamingNicholasandClayat each other,” she says. “The men were so inspired and horny, she relayed the story to Arya. Coffee, anyone?”
“I’d love a splash,” Finn answers.
I look between them, my mind racing. “So what? That doesn’t prove anything.”
Finn shoots his eyes back to me. “Doesn’t prove what, Nicholas?”
Flailing, I feign ignorance. “Wait. Hold on a second. Do you think thatmeNicholas andClayClay were at the hotel last night?” I cough out a scoff-laugh. “Can you imagine?”
They both stare at me blankly.
