Page 40 of No Longer Mine

I shrugged and laughed. “She told me not to worry about her and then hung up on me.”

“She must be as busy as you’re about to be,” He winked, and my stomach churned. How much longer did I need to go through with this?

He tried to jump on me again when we entered the elevator, but thankfully, his apartment was on floor twelve and it the ride was short. The doors dinged open, and he yanked me out of them. There were only six other doors on his floor, his was the last.

Once again, no key but another number pad. He was even slower with this one.

764312

This time I texted it to Cleo. He wasn’t paying me any attention, and I was pretending to scroll through social media. When he turned around, I had a picture of us pulled up outside of the hotel the party was at. In the picture, Gavin looked proud of himself with his arm around my waist. You, thankfully, couldn’t see the ring on my finger. I’d been extra careful to keepit out of the paparazzi’s pictures. The only person I wanted to see it was Dimitri, and it hadn’t done what I wanted it to. It backfired on me badly.

“We looked nice tonight,” I said triumphantly, even though I felt sick. Why was I feeling this way? I was about to make another score. I was going to give even more money away, then I could go take a long vacation. None of this mattered.

I knew I was lying to myself, even if I couldn’t admit it.

Gavin grinned down at me. “You look hot.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say to such a compliment. I didn’t think I’d ever been called hot, which was fine, but it seemed like a cheap word, especially since my dress cost five thousand dollars. I wouldn’t have even called myself hot. He pushed the door open. I was met with a nice view of Manhattan and modern furniture. It didn’t feel cozy. Most of the elite housing I’d been in didn’t. There were various art pieces on the wall, a few vases on flowers on the counter, and on the entryway table. He tossed his phone beside some books stacked by the door and opened his arms wide.

“Not much, but I like being close to the action,” Gavin began. I was hardly listening as I was taking in every detail. It didn’t seem like he would have a safe behind any of the art pieces, but I couldn’t underestimate him. That was how a heist could go wrong. My eyes flicked around the corners of the room. No cameras from what I could see, but you never knew. He could afford things normal people couldn’t. I knew that well enough. I kept my own home covered in cameras and surveillance. I didn’t want to be surprised by anything.

Gavin moved toward the open-concept kitchen, unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he reached for a bottle of whiskey. “Want a drink?”

No.

But I smiled as I sauntered toward him, slipping my phone back into my clutch. “Sure. Surprise me.”

The more comfortable he was, the easier this would be.

He poured two glasses and handed me one, his fingers brushing against mine for a second too long. His gaze lingered, expectant, waiting for me to react, but I merely took a slow sip, letting the burn of whiskey settle in my throat.

I had a job to do.

I swallowed down my unease. Pushed it away. This wasn’t new. This wasn’t different. Just another spoiled, privileged man who wouldn’t even notice what I’d taken until I was long gone.

Gavin leaned against the counter, his eyes flicking down to my dress. “You’re not just hot,” he murmured, voice dropping. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

I gave him a coy smile, setting my drink down on the counter. “You say that to all the women you bring up here?”

He chuckled, stepping closer, slightly swaying on his feet. “Only the ones worth remembering.”

God.

I turned, letting my fingers trail along the back of his couch as if I were admiring the place. “I didn’t take you for the sentimental type, Gavin,” I mused. “Yet you have fresh flowers. Very… domestic.”

He laughed, following me as I walked. “They were sent over from my mother.”

“Special occasion?” I asked.

He shrugged. “She sends for them every week. She says it makes me look softer…”

I needed a distraction.

I turned, closing the distance between us, sliding a finger along the collar of his open shirt. “You said you’d surprise me with that drink,” I murmured.

His breath hitched, his eyes darkening with anticipation. “You didn’t like the whiskey?”

I let my lips curve. “I was thinking something sweeter.”