Page 122 of The Silver Fox Brother

"No. I'll get a car. Or a taxi. It's fine."

I grab my purse from where I dropped it earlier and move toward the elevator. My legs are still shaky, my whole body humming and buzzing with aftershocks.

I press the call button and the elevator doors open immediately. I step inside and turn around. Knox is still standing there in the middle of the unfinished penthouse, frozen, watching me.

The elevator doors begin to close. Our eyes lock for one more second before the doors shut completely, cutting off my view of him. I stand back against the cold elevator wall, and release a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

Chapter Thirteen

Winter

Friday morning, I wake up in my apartment with every muscle in my body reminding me of what happened last night.

I can still feel Knox everywhere. On my skin. Inside me. The phantom sensation of his hands gripping my waist, his mouth on my neck, his fingers—

I force myself out of bed and into the shower.

The hot water doesn't help. If anything, it makes it worse. Every drop feels like a touch, every sensation amplified because my body is still humming, still buzzing with the memory of him.

I get dressed, make coffee I don't drink, and head to my design studio by eight-thirty.

Maya is already at her desk when I walk in, and she looks up with her usual bright smile.

"Morning! You're here early."

"Big day," I say, setting my bag down.

"What's on the schedule?"

Maya pulls up my calendar.

“9am call with the Williamsburg clients about final furniture delivery. Ten-thirty is the new Brooklyn Heights inquiry—they want to discuss a full brownstone renovation. Lunch is blocked for the fabric vendor meeting, and you have a 2pm site visit for the Upper West Side project."

"Perfect. Let me know when the 9 am call comes through."

I retreat to my office and close the door.

My desk is covered with material samples for three different projects, but I force myself to focus on the work in front of me.

I grab my phone to check emails and see three text messages from an unknown number.

I open them.

Unknown: Please talk to me.

Unknown: I know you're getting these messages.

Unknown: Winter, I miss you. Can we please just talk?

Rowan.

I stare at the messages for a long moment, then set my phone face-down on my desk without responding.

My office line rings. Maya's voice comes through the speaker.

"Williamsburg clients on line one."

I take a breath and answer. "Good morning, this is Winter."