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I'm not doing this again.

Friday night was supposed to be enough. One anonymous encounter to satisfy the craving, to get the forbidden want out of my system so I could go back to my normal life and stop fantasizing about men I can't have.

It didn't work, but that doesn't mean I should make it worse by going back for more.

I set my phone face-down on my nightstand and pull the covers up to my chin, determined to ignore the notification.

I last approximately forty-five seconds.

Then I grab my phone, open Veil, and read the message.

Ivy—

I haven't been able to stop thinking about Friday night. About you. I know we agreed to one encounter, no strings, but I'd like to see you again if you're willing.

I want more than just sex this time. I want to know you—as much as you're comfortable sharing. I want to talk. I want to understand what you need.

If you're interested, let me know. If not, I understand.

—V

My chest tightens.

He wants to see me again. He wants to know me.

I read the message three more times, my pulse racing, my mind spinning.

This is dangerous. This is exactly the kind of complication I was trying to avoid. The app is designed for anonymous encounters, not emotional connection. If I agree to this, I'm crossing a line I can't uncross.

But God, I want to.

I want to see him again. I want to feel his hands on me, his mouth on my skin, his voice in my ear telling me I'm perfect. I want to feel wanted the way he made me feel wanted.

I press my palms against my eyes and groan.

I sit up in bed, my phone clutched in my hand, and make a decision I know I'm going to regret.

I open the message thread and start typing.

Vanguard—

I've been thinking about Friday night too. I wasn't expecting to hear from you again, but I'm glad I did.

I'd like to see you. Same rules—masks, no last names, safe words. But I need you to understand that this is the last time. I can't let this become something more complicated than it already is.

If you're okay with that, let me know when and where.

—Ivy

I hit Send before I can change my mind.

The message is marked as delivered, and I watch the screen, my heart pounding, waiting for his response.

It comes less than two minutes later.

Ivy—

I understand. Same hotel, same suite if it's available. Friday night, 9 PM?