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My stomach knots with guilt, and she eyes me suspiciously. “You've been weird all week. Did something happen when you went out lastnight?”
I find the bracelet on mywrist.
Ben caught me off guard. Not by showing up looking outrageously sexy, or even by getting me info on Aiden Vane, but what he did for hisbrother.
I could steel myself against confident Ben. The vulnerable Ben I had no defense for, especially when he tried to cover his tracks with sexy teasing that felt oh soreal.
The second he kissed me, every argument evaporated like water burning off as steam. I should’ve been thinking about how we’re friends, and this is fake, and whether Tris and the others could see us from thatangle.
Instead, I was thinking his hair is the perfect length for tugging on when my fingers found their waythere.
We were opposing forces dragging over one another, and I wanted more. His hands were possessive, his tongue wickedly teasing, his woodsy scent heady enough to make me drunk in a way cocktails nevercould.
I kissed him back as if I wantedhim.
Because Idid.
Fuck, Idid.
I blink, realizing Lily’s still waiting for a response. “Nothingmajor.”
All day long I’ve been remembering the way it felt to kiss Ben, how much I wanted to gofurther.
"I would've ripped the dress off you—slowly—and fucked you against that mirror until you didn’tcare.”
His pointed addition of my preferred speed did nothing to dull my reaction to hiswords.
I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like if he did, if he backed me into the wall and claimed me with his body, the way it sometimes feels as if he does with his soul, his caring, his sheerintensity.
"But you wish something did happen,” she says as I turn and start for thehall.
I pause, a hand on the doorframe. “Why do you saythat?”
“Because you’re in love with Ben. And even if he doesn’t love you back, you can’t walkaway.”
The files slip from my fingers, papers escaping across the floor before I realize I’ve droppedthem.
I bend to pick them up, to tuck them back under my arm before looking straight in those eyes that are so much like mine. “I’ll see youlater.”
9
The hotel attendantenters my room with a wheeled cart. “Sir, where can I set this up foryou?”
I rub a hand through my hair, nodding toward the TV. “The livingroom.”
It's been two long-ass days at an investing conference in London, catching up with colleagues. Congratulations, some back door meetings, even an old business school friend who moved from New York to London trying to convince me to move to hisfirm.
I told him I’d keep it in mind. In the unlikely event Xavier doesn’t back me to rise up the ranks, it’s good to have an exitstrategy.
Usually, I thrive on that stuff, but while I was in a meeting, a notification went off on my phone of a big withdrawal from my mom'saccount.
I stepped out to call my mom at her treatmentfacility.
"Why did you take moneyout?"
"Your father called. His investments weren't doing well. Minewere."
I clenched my jaw. "No more, Mom. He's a user. He tells people one thing, then turns around and does somethingelse."
