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I glance at my left.

She’s standing beside me, only a few inches separating us.

A confident smile curves her lips as her eyes lock onto mine with obvious intent.

I know that look.

It’s the kind of look that tells me she already decided the answer is yes to whatever I want.

SIXTEEN

Selene

I tried to sleep, I really did. But no matter how much I turned in bed, the only thing I could see was the image burned into my mind from the moment I looked over Erik’s shoulder.

Zayn standing face-to-face with a woman.

So close that it looked like they were about to kiss.

And judging by the fact that—not even a minute later—they left together for the exit, it was obvious what came after.

I got back to the apartment less than twenty minutes later, but there was no sign of him.

I can’t decide whether that was better or worse. If I had run into him here with her, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to hold myself together. But the fact that he didn’t come back to the hotel was a clear sign he spent the night with her—probably right here in the hotel, if there are rooms available now.

The entire night passed with my mind tormenting me, forcing me to picture him touching her the way he touched me. Looking at her with that same desire, kissing her with that same intensity, that same hunger. Letting her get close to him, feel him, just like he let me.

Just like he encouraged me to.

Now I’m drinking my vitamin water as I go over today’s plans when my phone starts vibrating on the kitchen island.

At the same time, the front door opens.

Zayn walks in wearing the same clothes as last night.

I don’t look up, I don’t want to see him disheveled after a passionate night.

“Morning,” he says, walking past without stopping.

“Morning,” I answer quietly.

Polite.

Professional.

That’s how it’s supposed to be now. That’s how things need to be between us from here on out. I have to talk to him, see him, work with him.

I stand to wash my glass, and as I make my way to my room, I hear his shower turn on.

The knot in my throat tightens, but I force it back down and keep walking.

I’m ready in under fifteen minutes, and I step out of my bedroom exactly when he comes out of his.

This time, he doesn’t say anything.

We head out together, wait for the elevator together, ride down to the underground parking garage together because he’s the only one pressing the buttons. I’m not capable of breathing properly, let alone doing anything else.

“The driver is off today,” he says as we step out of the elevator.