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“You don’t have to carry me.”
“Yes. I do. Over the threshold,” he says.
“What?” I laugh a little. “What threshold?”
“The one where this stops being a fake date and becomes a real one. Starting right now.”
It’s…sweet.
It does feel meaningful.
He carries me across the upper level of the rooftop, allowing me to once again marvel at the extreme opulence of the setting. All of New York City is laid out below us. And this time, I’m not just passing through to play a role. I’m here because he wants me here.
Alexander carries me into a glass elevator, which gives us a view of the lower level of the rooftop. I got a brief glimpse of it when we flew out, but now I can really take it all in. The huge, pristine pool surrounded by tropical plants is next-level. The wealth it would have taken to create something like this boggles the mind.
The elevator doors open and we enter the roof garden. Clearly no expense has been spared on the greenhouse or the outdoor kitchen and seating area, which is like a luxury lounge, framed by marble columns and folding doors that are pushed all the way open. Long white curtains have been tied back with gold tassels, giving the place a Roman Empire vibe. A giant flat-screen is mounted against one interior wall, playing a baseball game on mute.
Two men are hanging out by the pool. They’re drinking beer. One of them is cooking burgers on a grill, the other one is just climbing out of the glittering water. They’re both tall, muscular and shirtless, wearing only swim shorts.
They both look a lot like Alexander. At a guess, they must be two of his brothers.
They watch us approach. And both their jaws sort of drop.
“I don’t remember inviting you two to help yourselves to my pool,” Alexander says, but his tone is light. It’s easy to read that he gets along well with his brothers.
“And I don’t remember you being such an asshole,” says the brother who’s now drying his dark hair with a towel. He’s got a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. “Oh wait, yes I do.”
Both of them are intently watching the way Alexander is holding me in his arms. “Ivy, meet Noah. And Colton, who’s the most obnoxious of my brothers most days.”
“But today is not that day.” Recognition flickers across Colton’s smile as he checks me out. “Wait a minute. Ivy Laine? Your fake date is Ivy Laine?”
Alexander sighs, like he’s tired of the question. “Yes. You’ve heard of her?”
“Of course I’ve heard of her. Hey, Ivy. Cleo plays your music in the office all the time. And why didn’t Cleo mention she’d set you up with Ivy Laine?” Colton seems offended by the omission.
“Because it’s none of your fucking business,” Alexander explains, almost patiently.
Carefully, he sets me down on my feet, his arm settling around me.
“Hey, Ivy,” Noah says. He visibly stops himself from stepping forward to kiss my cheek or shake my hand because of the growly “mine” energy practically radiating off Alexander.
“Hi,” I smile, feeling a tiny bit awkward and flushed. The effects of my most recent double endorphin rush are still lingering and I wonder if it’s obvious to them that Alexander and I spent the weekend having very hot sex. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
“How was the wedding?” Noah is clearly trying not to stare, but he’s riveted and mildly entertained by the way Alexander is touching me.
“It was good,” Alexander replies, not elaborating.
“Everything went…well?” Noah’s digging for details.
“Yes,” Alexander confirms. “So well that you two can feel free to leave anytime you want.”
Colton finishes his beer, smiling widely. “Wow. Now, that’s a first.”
“I’m sure it’s not. I’ve definitely kicked you out of my apartment before,” Alexander’s voice is deep and graveled, like his comment is a veiled warning.
Which Colton completely ignores. He obviously enjoys getting a rise out of his oldest brother. “Ivy, you should know that Alexander has never brought a woman home to his fancy penthouse before, not in all the time he’s lived here.”
I glance up at Alexander. “Really?”
