There is no right answer, no fucking break. And so each stroke against her flesh is seared with tension and a strong ache, my heart pounding like a jackhammer to cement.
And I kiss her again, my lips swelling beneath her eagerness, her insistency to push deeper, to go farther. She runs her bitten nails across my back, not sharp enough to draw blood, not even long enough to truly scratch, but she digs her fingers into my skin. She grips so fiercely, as though I am two seconds from dropping her. From saying no.
My brain clicks, and the blacklist isn’t hazy anymore. We can’t do this. I retract my lips from her, and I don’t meet her eyes.
I fucked up.
I want to punch the wall. I want to scream. More than anything, I want to go sit at a bar and forget the road I was about to pull Lily down. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Lo…”
I bring her to her feet, and she wobbles unsteadily. I keep a hand on her waist, but there’s considerable amount of distance between us.
“What did I do…?” Her high-pitched voice lurches my stomach.
“Nothing,” I say, tucking another piece of hair behind her ear.
“Then we can do something…” She grips my shirt again, clenching the fabric between two panicked fists.
I pry her fingers from me. “We can’t have sex here, and I can’t touch you here either.” But she can’t wait until tonight.
She nods rapidly. And as the news settles with her, she pulls her shoulders back like I’ve seen Rose often do. She raises her chin, trying to be strong. Christ, I want to her kiss her for it and to apologize for tempting her even more. I should have taken her to our house where we can have sex. In fact, that’s what we’re going to do now.
“Grab your stuff,” I tell her. “We’re going home, and I’ll make you come there.” My tone isn’t sexy. It’s clinical. I just want her to be able to wait until we reach our bedroom.
I find her jeans on the ground, and I help put her legs in each pant hole.
“Wait,” she says.
I don’t want to give her the chance to convince me to have sex with her in the bathroom. It’s not happening. I already screwed up by arousing her more—I don’t need to break anything on that blacklist.
Public sex—yeah, that’s not fucking allowed.
I zip up her jeans and fish the button through, towering over her with dominance that makes her squirm. I want to kiss her. God, I just want to hold her. But instead of drawing towards Lily, I have to draw back.
“Wait,” she says again, more forceful this time. She grabs my wrist to stop me. “You’re not going home.”
“I’m not leaving you,” I say. I don’t add that I don’t trust her. Her fingers may slip into her panties; she may give herself what I’ve denied.
“You’re working,” she reminds me, tears building again. “I’m not ruining your first job.” She inhales a strong breath and adds, “I’ll stay at my desk, and when you’re done working, we can go.”
I hesitate.
“You should only be one more hour. I can wait that long.”
“Plus the ride home,” I remind her.
She nods quickly. “Yes, yes.”
I like this option. Mostly because Lily came up with the idea, and it’ll lessen whatever guilt she’ll feel for not being able to wait tonight. “Okay.” I kiss her cheek. And she sighs, but as she walks to the door, the tension becomes apparent in the way her thighs press together.
I lead her out of the bathroom, and we enter the loft space where Trish and Katie fling clothes at one another, fixing the garments on the models quickly. I look around for Rose, but she’s nowhere in sight.
Lily keeps her eyes pinned to the desk and nowhere else. “I’ll be okay,” she says, more to herself than me.
“I know you will.”
I watch her make the short journey to her desk. She slides into her chair and studies her computer screen, focused and concentrated. Maybe it’s all a façade. But I know she’s trying damn hard.
I need to find Rose to tell her that I’m leaving right after I finish with the fitting. There aren’t many places she could be. Besides her glass office, there’s only the backroom. I saunter down the short hallway, my shoulders stiff. I stuff my fists in my pockets so they’ll stop shaking. I feel high on fear and concern, my adrenaline spiked badly. I just need a drink.
Her icy voice echoes from an open door. I rest my arm on the frame, my eyes darting around the dimly lit area that’s filled with marked boxes, racks of clothes, and clear plastic tubs. Rose has her back to me, a phone pressed to her ear.
“I don’t want to have this conversation with you right now. We have a photo shoot next week and a runway show in two months—”
“Which is precisely why I called.” I’d recognize Samantha Calloway’s biting voice from the fucking moon. I’m not surprised that she called her daughter. She’s been involved with Rose’s company from its birth.
“Don’t start,” Rose warns her. “This isn’t going to end well, Mother.”
“You’re right. It’s not going to end well for you. I have helped your father market Fizzle for twenty years. What you’re doing is going to ruin Calloway Couture.”
“He’s just a model!” Rose shouts. “He’s not the face of the company.”
I freeze.
“He’s an alcoholic,” Samantha retorts. “And his face will be plastered in magazines and billboards next to your brand. Your company will suffer for it.”
It suddenly feels hot in here. I tug at the collar to my shirt. Why is it so fucking hot?
“And who sees Loren Hale and immediately thinks alcoholic? Your friends? Because I sure as hell don’t know anyone else in this fucking country who would give a shit.” Venom laces Rose’s words.
“Don’t speak to me that way. I’m your mother, and it’s my job to give you advice.”
“I hear it,” Rose says. “Your advice, while I know you mean well, is judgmental and cold. Loren will be a model in the campaign. He’ll be in photos, runway shows and commercials, so if you have a problem with that, then turn off the television, divert your eyes, but don’t scold me.”
Samantha Calloway sighs. “Is there anything that can change your mind, Rose? You’re making a very big mistake.”
“Nothing,” she says.
“Well then, I’ll see you Sunday.” She pauses. “I’m sorry I yelled.”
Rose sighs just as heavily. “Me too.” They both hang up, and when Rose spins around, she jumps back, her hand to her chest in surprise. “Lo, I…”
“Don’t,” I say with a bitter smile that turns into a grimace. “Look, I didn’t know that my role in your company would impact you nega—”
“It doesn’t,” she interjects. “She’s just overdramatic.”
All these feelings scorch my insides, and if I don’t speak my mind now, I’m going to be driven down the street to a place I shouldn’t go. “Your mother is right,” I tell her, the words sinking low. “And I won’t screw with your career just because I need some cash. I’ll find another way.”
“Don’t,” Rose tells me now. She holds a manicured finger directly at my face. “You’re staying.”
“I’m not.” I can’t stay. I can’t fuck up another Calloway’s life with my problems. Lily is so much a part of me that there’s no disentangling from her now, but Rose—I’m not going to trap her inside my vice. I’m not going to lead her down this dark path that I walk on.
I turn to leave, and Rose grabs my arm. “You need this job.”
I jerk out of her grip. “I appreciate your help, I do, but you have to let me go.”