Page 46 of Merger


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I stomped down the hall and into our room only to find her coming out of the bathroom. "Oh, what did you forget?" she asked casually.

I frowned at her. "Did you need something?"

"Yeah, I was just using the bathroom."

My bathroom? Every single bedroom in the penthouse had a bathroom, and there was a powder room in the hallway.

"Okaaaay." A familiar scent hit my nose. It smelled like Atticus. Granted, I just used the shower, but it smelled like his cologne.

You're being paranoid.

I grabbed my work bag, grabbed the tickets, and then I scooted her out of our room.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overstep. I shouldn't have used your bathroom. I should have just waited for Morgan and used the powder room."

"Yeah, that would make me more comfortable. We have some sensitive items in the bedroom, you know."

"Oh God, I didn't even think about it. I'm sorry. I would never…" Her voice trailed off. She would never, what? Snoop? Pry through my things? Touch things that don't belong to her? Lay on the bed that I share with my husband? No, of course she wouldn't.

"Of course.” But just to be safe, I closed the door and then deliberately locked it.

She lifted a brow.

"I can't be too careful, you know, Lucy. My work laptop is there, so—" I let my voice hang right there.

"Oh right, of course. I'm sorry. I should have waited."

Yeah, as we had established. I didn't feel comfortable leaving her there, but I had to go. As I left, I texted Morgan.

Me: Please don't leave Lucy unattended. I just found her in my bedroom.

Sissy Face: What? Why was she in the bedroom?

Me: Bathroom.

I pushed the button rapidly, trying not to let what I'd just seen affect me. But it was nearly impossible. She had been in my bedroom. A place I was sure she was more than familiar with.

20

Gwen

I was supposed to be having a good time.

Dinner was delicious. The wine and food were amazing. Atticus had taken me to a friend's restaurant. It was a new French spot and very lively, highlighting foods from all over the world where there were French-speaking people. But I had been distracted. At the art gallery, Atticus leaned over and said, "Okay, what's the problem? I thought you wanted a night out, but you seem distracted. Annoyed maybe?"

His brow was furrowed and his gaze was unsure, as if trying to ascertain what he'd done wrong.

I sighed. "Oh shit, I'm sorry. I am distracted, but that is not your fault. That's on me. I'm with you. I promise."

His gaze swept over me. "You look beautiful. I did tell you right? That's all I've been thinking about. How much you can shift your dress and how much of a peek I'll get."

I had to chuckle at that. "Atticus, stop."

"What? You're teasing me with all that skin on display."

"It's barely any cleavage."

"That thing is slit to your navel."

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