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But that wasn’t true. I wasn’t only doing this to prove a point to him. I was also proving one to myself. I needed tonight. I needed to lose myself in long hair, soft skin, and shy lips. Maybe then I’d stop being haunted by hard muscles and bold hands. Possessive kisses and sinful promises.
“Caleb?”
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I was just wondering how far it is to your place.”
“Oh.” I smiled as we turned onto Park Avenue. “Just a couple of blocks. I live at the, um, Waldorf Towers.”God that feels pretentious to say.
But apparently pretentious worked just fine for Bronwyn. Her eyes lit up, a surprised little laugh escaping her. “The Towers?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I’ve never been there before. Or even stayed at the hotel. I did go to a bar there once, I think.” Then her grin grew wider, as if something just occurred to her. “Isn’t that where those um, prince guys live?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.I couldn’t escape Travis and those morons even when they weren’t around.“Yeah. I, uh, live with Travis. He’s my stepbrother.”
Actually, that was perfect, exactly what I needed to do—put Travis back in the box he belonged in. The one with the family connection.
Talk about that. Think about that.
Don’tthink about how he was rubbing his erection against you last night. And definitely don’t think about how hard it made you.
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
I wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t like Travis and I went around advertising the fact, and up until recently I didn’t give him or his friends the time of day.
“Yep. Lucky me, huh?” I tried for a laugh that sounded strained to my ears, but she didn’t seem to notice as we reached the entrance to the Towers and the doorman opened the door for us.
“Good evening, Mr. Reeves.”
“It’s Caleb,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time to the older man, but just like his younger counterpart in the mornings, he insisted on using formalities, making me feel like they were talking to my dad.
“Yes, Mr. Reeves. Have a good night.”
Bronwyn giggled at the exchange as I led her across the lobby to the elevators, and soon enough we were at my floor.
The scent of her perfume or shampoo found me as she passed me and stepped out of the elevator. I welcomed the distraction from the headier, more masculine scent I hadn’t been able to erase from my mind since last night, feeling as though Travis had laced it with some sort of addictive quality.
“This place is insane. That elevator…” She shook her head. If you weren’t accustomed to places like the Towers, then it was like stepping into a whole new world, which was why people begged for the invite to East and West’s parties. People wanted to see how the one percent lived.
“This is me,” I said, opening the door to the condo, unsure of what I wanted to find waiting for us. But as soon as we stepped inside, the sound of the TV let me know Travis was home.
My stomach flipped, those knots tightening as I took Bronwyn’s hand and led her out of the foyer, and like a moth to a flame, my eyes immediately found him.
Travis was sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him on the coffee table. He wore a pair of loose grey sweats that looked comfy, and his black t-shirt was tight enough to show off the body that had pressed me up against the club wall last night.
Not that I remembered—much.
“Someone doesn’t answer his texts,” Travis called out, but when I didn’t answer, he rolled his head on the tall cushion to look over at me. His eyes went immediately to Bronwyn before meeting mine, and a small smile played at his lips. “Ah, I see.”
Bronwyn nudged me, and I swallowed a sigh.
“Bronwyn, this is Travis. Travis, Bronwyn.”
“Hi.” She grinned, and just like that, Travis turned on the charm.
“Aren’t you a looker.” He propped his chin on his arm. “And what pretty blonde hair you have.”
