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"Ben's jealous," Lilysingsongs.
I glare. "I wasconcerned.”
Daisy sets her bag on the hook by the door and steps out of the heels. “Because of ourarrangement?”
“Yes.”
She starts down the hall toward herroom.
Lily clears her throat, shooting me a pointedlook.
"No," I clarify, following Daisy down thehall.
Lily's a kid, and she doesn't know for a fact that Daisy has feelings for me. But given that my friend has been cool to me since Wednesday, another approach could be inorder.
“The outcome of this matters to both of our futures,” I say. “The fact that you went out with Marc told me you aren't committed tothis."
Inside her room, she heads for a pile of clean laundry on the bed and starts putting it away. “I didn’t go out with Marc. But I won’t promise not to, because I’m not going to getcaught.”
The relief I expected doesn'tcome.
“It’s not only about getting caught.” I step closer, trapping her between me and the dresser. Her eyes widen a fraction of an inch. “The idea of my girl dating another man—ofyoudating another guy—while we’re together isupsetting.”
"That's on you, notme."
Frustration rises and I shove it down. “I know it’s unfair of me to ask that you put your social life on hold while we’re doing this, but I’m askinganyway."
"Why?"
An unfamiliar feeling claws at my chest from the inside. It’s a simple question, but the answer feels anything buteasy.
“Because I hate the thought that you would go to someone else for what I should be providing you,” I grind out. “He might like you, but there’s no way he cares about you more than I do. So tell me what you need. I’ll be that or go downtrying.”
The words are out before my brain can catch up, but the way her gaze softens in surprise and hope, I don’t want to take themback.
I want her to ask me forthings.
I want her to know I’ll give them toher.
“Okay,” she replies at last. “Not for the rest of themonth.”
“Thank you,” I say, the relief coming at last. I clear my throat. “I broughtdonuts.”
“We wouldn’t be talking if you hadn’t.” Her easy deadpan has me grinning, and she smiles inreturn.
My attention lingers on her lips, remembering how they felt beneath mine for a beat toolong.
“What’s with the bags?" I ask, noticing the suitcase by herbed.
“Next weekend is the Vineyard for Camila and Aiden. I’m deciding what to take for the trip.” She goes to the dresser and opens the top drawer, pulling out a stack of lace. “I told Vane you’re buried in work and can’tcome."
I can’t look away from the lingerie she sets on the bed—a stack of bras and panties—and now I’m wondering how many donuts it’d cost me for a fashion show righthere.
“So what’s this dinner of Xavier’s Wednesday?” Her words drag meback.
I groan. “Perfectly cooked prime rib accompanied by hours of social posturing and backstabbing. As much as he wants everyone to get along at the end of the day, he likes the competition to getthere.”
“That soundsterrible.”
