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"Your secret emotional depths are safe with me," I promise, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Just like your cooking skills and your drooling habit."
"I do not drool," he insists, but he's smiling now, the moment of vulnerability passing into something lighter. "That's still slander."
"Prove it," I challenge, feeling a familiar heat build between us as his hands slide to my hips.
"With pleasure," he murmurs against my mouth, backing me slowly toward the bed. "But this investigation could take all afternoon."
"I've got nowhere else to be," I assure him, pulling him down with me onto the mattress.
As his weight settles over me, as his mouth finds that sensitive spot below my ear that makes me gasp, I push thoughts of Camden and tomorrow's presentation and all the complications of our relationship to the back of my mind.
Right now, there's only this—Roman's hands mapping my body like territory he'll never tire of exploring, my own desire rising to meet his with equal fervor.
Tomorrow will bring its own challenges. For now, I lose myself in the sensation of walls coming down, of barriers crumbling between us with each shared breath, each unguarded moment.
For now, that's enough.
Or at least, that's what I tell myself as Roman's mouth traces fire down my body, temporarily burning away the nagging certainty that Camden's appearance tomorrow is anything but coincidental—and that whatever he wants, it won't be as simple as "making things right."
Some walls, once broken, can never be rebuilt. And some, I fear, are about to be tested in ways neither Roman nor I are fully prepared for.
18
CASSIE
FAMILY MATTERS
"You don't have to walk me to the elevator, you know." Mia adjusts her portfolio strap for the fifth time in as many minutes, her nervousness palpable despite her attempt at nonchalance. "I'm twenty, not twelve."
"I'm aware," I say, smoothing a wrinkle from her carefully selected blazer—thrifted vintage YSL that she spent three weeks' barista wages on.
"But as your sister and a department head, I reserve the right to fuss. First day jitters are universal."
We're standing in Elysian's gleaming lobby, surrounded by sleek marble and glass that still intimidates me sometimes, despite my months here. Mia looks both perfectly at home and utterly terrified, exactly how I felt on my first day.
"What if they only accepted me because of you?" she whispers, voicing the fear I know has been eating at her. "What if I'm just the Creative Director's charity project?"
"Mia Monroe," I say firmly, gripping her shoulders. "You were accepted because your portfolio is exceptional. Because your perspective is fresh and your technical skills areimpeccable. And because Elysian would be idiotic to let someone with your talent slip through their fingers."
She looks unconvinced. "You can't know that for sure."
"Actually, I can." I tap her portfolio. "I wasn't on the selection committee precisely to avoid any hint of nepotism. You earned this on your own merits. And anyone who suggests otherwise will answer to me."
"That's not exactly reassuring," she says, but a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "I'm trying to avoid special treatment, not have my big sister defend my honor."
"Fine. No defending, no special treatment." I hold up my hands in surrender. "As far as anyone in this building is concerned, we're professional acquaintances who happen to share DNA and a childhood trauma."
"Much better." Mia's smile widens, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "I want to do this right, Cass. Make my own name."
"You will." I check my watch—her orientation starts in ten minutes. "Now get going before you're late. That's definitely not how you want to start."
She throws her arms around me in a quick, fierce hug, then pulls back, professional mask sliding into place. "Thank you," she whispers. "For everything."
As I watch her stride toward the elevator bank, confidence in every step despite her inner doubts, a wave of nausea hits me so suddenly that I have to grip the edge of a nearby planter for support. The third time this week. Probably just nerves about the board's upcoming decision on my brand proposal, coupled with the stress of helping Mia prepare for her internship.
I take a deep breath, willing my stomach to settle. Now is not the time to succumb to stress-induced queasiness. I have a department to run, a sister to support (from a professionaldistance), and a boyfriend who's also my boss to maintain appropriate boundaries with during working hours.
Just another Monday at Elysian.