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I sink into my desk chair and press my palms against my flushed cheeks.

I have started something I don't know how to stop.

Chapter Six

BROCK

I walk out of Megan's classroom with my hands in my pockets and my jaw locked tight, and it takes every ounce of control I possess not to turn around and tell her exactly who I am.

The hallway is empty. Lunch period. All I can hear is the sound of her breath catching when I stood too close.

She felt it. I saw it in the way her pupils dilated, the way her pulse jumped in her throat. Her body recognized me even if her mind hasn't caught up yet.

I make it to my car before the memory hits me full force, her thighs trembling around my hips, the way she looked at me when I told her to keep her eyes open. So much trust. So much need.

I grip the steering wheel and force myself to breathe.

I start the car and pull out of the parking lot, driving the speed limit even though every instinct is screaming at me to go back inside.

I've checked the Veil app seventeen times since Friday night.

Seventeen times in three days.

I know it's obsessive. I know I should delete it and walk away.

But I can't.

Every time I close my eyes, I see her. Every time I open the app, I'm hoping Ivy-27 has logged back in.

She hasn't.

Her profile is still active, but there's no indication she's been online since Friday night. No new messages. Nothing.

I draft a message and delete it. Draft another. Delete that one too.

Finally, I set my phone down and scrub my hands over my face, frustrated with the situation I've created.

"Brock, are you listening?"

I blink and refocus on the conference room. David Chen, one of the senior partners at Rhodes, Mercer & Vance, is looking at me with barely concealed irritation.

"Sorry," I say, straightening in my chair. "Late night. You were saying?"

David's eyes narrow, but he continues with the case details. The meeting drags on, and I force myself to focus on the Kellerman deposition, the witness list, the discovery requests.

Instead, I'm thinking about Megan.

When the meeting finally ends, David catches my arm as I'm gathering my files.

"Everything all right?" he asks quietly.

"Fine," I say. "Just distracted."

"You're never distracted." David's expression is concerned. We've worked together for years, and he knows me well enough to recognize when something is off. "If you need to take some time⁠—"

"I don't," I say firmly. "I'll have the witness list finalized tonight."

David nods slowly, but he doesn't look convinced. I thank him and head back to my office, closing the door behind me.