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“Jacqueline,” I said, patting her hand clutching the stem of a wine glass she’d gulped from for the previous three or so minutes, “it’s okay—we’re okay. No harm, no foul.”
Devlin slid his arm around her back from where he sat on her other side. “Our boys weren’t injured, darling. I’ll bet they even enjoyed getting caught up after all these years apart.”
My face heated, and I feigned serious interest in the pasta dish that no longer steamed in front of me. I shifted on my barstool, remembering exactly how much I’d enjoyed Drake’s mouth on my dick and balls. My groin tingled to life, and I fought against the need to look at the man on my right.
“This evening has not gone to plan,” Jacqueline stated with a huff of annoyance at not having gotten her way. “I had everything perfect, and now it’s ruined.”
“We already discussed this,” Devlin soothed, his tone low and firm as always with her. He murmured a few more things near her ear not meant for ours, and jealousy snaked through me as it did when I witnessed their love. I envied their freedom to openly show affection to each other.
“Boys, we’re going to meet for brunch tomorrow at ten,” Devlin finally addressed us. “I think it’s best if we hold off on discussing the reasons for Jacqueline having you come to New York until the morning.”
I nodded, more than happy to end the evening with them sooner than later. Jacqueline’s unusual frantic nature over my safety, while kind of nice to see for a change, had begun to grate on my nerves. I wasn’t used to her attention, nor did I know how to respond to it.
“Fine by me,” Drake said, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. He slid off his stool as though his dad’s words had been etched in stone. “Think you can handle an elevator ride to the thirteenth floor, or do you want to take the stairs?” he asked me, ignoring both our parents.
Our gazes caught and held, making my blood heat.
The stairs, although easier to handle, would waste time and tire me out even more. While I’d had a short nap, I expected I was going to be up quite late. At least, I hoped I would be.
My face went even hotter as I tried to tamp down rising fear over being trapped again. “Elevator is f-fine,” I croaked, my heart rate fluttering from both lust and trepidation.
“I could try to get you a room closer to ground level,” Jacqueline started, but I shook my head, shifting my focus off Drake’s gaze before we outed our want for each other.
“I’ve gotten over my phobia of confined spaces. I’ll be fine.” I hoped so, anyway.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” she pressed, her gaze still troubled and emanating worry for me while glancing between me and Drake.
My heart ached at the term of endearment I couldn’t ever remember hearing off her lips. Anxiety flooded me that she would read the sexual tension between him and I. “Yeah,” I rasped, unsettled—unsure of how the evening had changed my life.
Jacqueline squeezed my hand, acquiescing for a change, thank fuck.
We left my half-empty plate atop the bar, the four of us making for the elevator not covered in caution tape. Drake led the way with sure, steady steps as always.
Adrenaline pumped through my bloodstream, half for the ride ahead and half for the other ride I would enjoy atop the man striding in front of me. Or he could be on top, I had no preference. I just wanted Drake inside me, making the rest of the world dissolve around us.
I was the second to enter the elevator, a mirror image of the one Drake and I had been trapped in. My heart outright raced, making me a little breathless. He moved to the far wall, and I followed on shaky legs, turning as Jacqueline and Devlin stepped in as well. Their room lay up on the twenty-something floor.
“If you need anything…” Jacqueline’s voice trailed off, sounding exhausted as hell, and I nodded. Her assuring smile wobbled before she snuggled against Devlin’s side as though seeking out his warmth and strength like I refrained from doing with the other Hemmings man beside me.
“Okay?” Drake murmured to me as the doors slid shut. He stepped close enough our shoulders touched.
“Yeah,” I whispered, reminding myself to fill my lungs. That tight space issue might have healed, but new PTSD arrived in the form of fear of getting stuck between floors again. With Drake? I wouldn’t mind. But it would be hell on earth to be confined for longer than five minutes with Jacqueline Casswell and her newly formed whacked-out responses to me.
Drake brushed his knuckles over mine, and while I wanted to entwine my fingers with his, I made do with the fact we had bare skin contact behind our parent’s backs.
The elevator glided upward without issues, and I glanced over at his eyes darkened by desire as we slowed nearer my floor.
We couldn’t speak of what we wanted. I couldn’t double-check we shared the same plans.
But he nodded as though seeing the questions in my eyes.
I released a slow exhale and stepped past Devlin to exit the elevator.
“See you in the morning, sweetheart,” Jacqueline called, and I dipped my head, forcing myself to turn away.
Shoulders hunched, I listened as the door slid shut once more, taking my love three stories higher where he would wait for me.
I didn’t trust Jacqueline not to check on me in person. Knowing her, she probably had a key to my room and would march right in rather than call. I didn’t want to ride the elevator alone so soon after being stuck in one, but I could handle three flights of stairs. All for the safety of Drake’s room, where she wouldn’t dare enter without knocking.
