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My vision went white at the edges, whole body clenching around him. I called out his name like a prayer. He fucked me through every wave of my orgasm, his breath ragged against my temple, finger still circling my clit, drawing out my pleasure until I was shaking.

Then he pulled back, stroking himself fast, and I slid off the desk onto my knees.

“Trouble—”

“I know.” I tipped my chin up, mouth open.

He came with a groan, ropes of his cum hitting the back of my throat. I scooped up some that had leaked out, licking my finger clean while he watched, chest heaving, blue eyes blown completely dark.

“Fuck. That was...fuck.” He hauled me up off the floor and kissed me deep and slow, tasting himself on my tongue without hesitation. He pulled back, his hands cradling my face.

“You’re mine, Graciella.”

He punctuated it with a kiss before I could respond, pulling me onto the couch in a tangle of limbs, my ear over his heartbeat. The Cup sat on the desk across the room, catching the light, a silent witness to all of it. I could feel the pleasant ache between my thighs and the solid weight of his arm across my back.

Monroe brushed the damp hair from my face, his touch so careful as he traced the line of my jaw with his thumb.

“Graciella.”

Something in the way he said my name made me go still.

“This isn’t just sex.” His voice was low, a little rough around the edges. “You’re it for me.”

My heart swelled so fast it almost hurt.

“Are you sure?” My voice came out smaller than I meant it to.

“Without a doubt in my mind.” He pressed his lips to my forehead.

I pressed my face back into his chest before he could see whatever was happening to my expression. Before he could read on my face what I hadn’t said out loud yet.

I love him.

FORTY-ONE

MONROE

THE MAN’S ABOUT TO SNAP.

I’d had lots of stolen moments with Graciella.

Of mornings in my kitchen while Goldie got ready for daycare or Nana’s house. Of her sitting with her feet tucked under her on my couch, scrolling on her phone and swearing she was actually working, even though half the time it was her showing me something she thought was funny, and being pissed when I didn’t laugh.

Of her painting Goldie’s nails as many times as she repainted her own. Of her toothbrush lying next to mine in the bathroom. All these small things that felt like something big.

And now it was over.

Well, at least for a portion of tonight, it was over.

I adjusted my tie in the glitzy mirror, trying not to think about Itzel joining me soon so we could play our agreed roles. And Graciella playing one that didn’t match what she really was to me.

Chandeliers threw warm light across the ballroom in every direction. Clinks of champagne flutes sounded, mixing with the low hum of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter.

My jaw clenched.

The Bay Area Sports Achievement Awards happened every year, but this was my first time attending—first year receiving something like this.

I wiped my clammy hands down the sides of my suit pants.