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“Have you smelledeveryone’sshit? I know you haven’t smelled mine, or we wouldn’t be having this argument,” I shout back.

“You were born to argue.”

“And you were born to give me a reason to,” I retort.

He just growls. I snicker quietly, but the smile on the face of the person staring back at me in the mirror while I wash my hands could be on a billboard that reads “a person in love.”

I spot anArchitectural Digestsitting at the top of a basket full of magazines. Omar’s house is on the very front. And despite what he said, we’ve had several uninvited voyeurs coming by to take pictures. I’m so glad I said no to being included. It would make it so easy for Conrad to find me again. I banish the thought as quickly as it comes.

Nothing lasts forever, and I know this bliss won’t be an exception to that rule. But I’ve stopped worrying about what’s to come. I’m living in the moment, savoring every mouthwatering second.

I’m done and out in less than a minute and smirk when his eyebrows shoot up. “I only had to pee, I told you.” I shimmy out of my dress. “One sec and I’ll come see the tile work that’s got you so hot and bothered,” I tease.

“Very funny.” He tosses a small throw pillow at me. I shriek and duck just in time for it to sail over my head.

“I’m not being funny.” I drape my dress onto the back of the chair of my vanity. “It’s dead sexy that you’re handy.” I raise one arm and rest it on the door frame of the bathroom and put the other on my cocked hip. “I love watching you hammering more than anything,” I drawl in a seductive voice.

His greedy gaze hasn’t left me since I started to undress, but now he’s put the phone down and undoes the front of his trousers.

“Youin that lingerie is dead sexy.”

“What, this old thing?” I run a hand over the front of my violet lace body suit.

He growls. “Come here, you. Let me show you how handy I am.”

“Only if you promise to let me hold your screwdriver.” I strut over to the bed and plop down next to him.

He slaps my ass and pulls me into his side. I drape a leg over his and rest my head on his chest. “I’m glad you’ve got jokes, and I can’t wait for you to apologize for teasing me after you see this.”

My phone starts to vibrate on the bedside table, as what sounds like an endless stream of notifications pop up. “What in the world?” I ask and reach over him for it.

He snags it and gives it to me.

“It’s your IG notifications blowing up.”

“Why wouldthatbe? I post twice a year, and my account is private.”

“I tagged you in something tonight.”

My heart stops. I close my eyes and groan. “What did you tag me in?”

“A video.”

“Of what?” I ask with as much patience as I can muster.

“Part of your speech.”

I prop myself up on one arm and look down at him in disbelief. He looks completely unperturbed. “Why?”

“Because I was fucking proud of you, and I wanted the whole world to know.”

My stomach falls, and dread creeps up my spine in prickles of ice that chill me to the bone. “Omar, you have like twenty million followers. I don’t want to be in the public eye. We talked aboutthis already. My job requires discretion. If you want back in the spotlight, I’m happy for you, but I don’t want my face splashed across tabloids.”

He flinches like I slapped him. “I didn’t post a video of you with your ass spread out on my bed, Jules. Damn.”

My eyes fill with tears. “Why would you do post anything of me at all? Without asking me first?”

He pulls me into his side, and I let him because I need the soothing his touch always brings. “Jules,please. Just watch it before you freak. Trust me.” His voice is gruff, and his eyes are pleading. And that is enough. I do trust him. Like I’ve never trusted anyone in my life.