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“That’s my favorite. Now you’re trying to win me over with food? Who told you? Harper?” I ask.
“No. It’s how I order it. I would’ve pegged you for more of a pineapple-on-pizza type of girl though.”
I scoff. “I could say the same about you.”
He chuckles. “You’re good at that.”
“Why did you walk by my place, knowing the next block is faster?” I ask.
“Pfft. The next block only seems faster. It’s not. The distance is the same; the scenery is all that changes.” He shrugs, opens the box, and grabs a slice. He takes a bite but immediately spits it out. “Yep, too fucking hot. I know it’s a lame complaint, but I’m starving.”
“Patience is a virtue.” I laugh.
He tilts his head, watching me. “You should do more of that.”
“Deliver proverbs from my balcony?” I ask, though I know he means letting loose—laughing, smiling, enjoying life.
We share a moment.
My gaze drifts over him, and I notice he’s still in the suit he wore earlier. It’s a textured cashmere silk that fits him perfectly. I can still smell his lingering scent on my skin. If we could just talk,maybe we’d find common ground instead of trying to tear each other apart.
I clear my throat. “Do you?—”
“Fuck off, Calloway.” He smirks, cutting me off before I can finish.
“Only if you fuck off first,” I retort, walking inside and gently shutting the window.
I attempt to drown my worries in rosé and take several big gulps.
Banks looked at me like he was hungry for more than just pizza. I know I wasn’t imagining it.
I pick up my phone, return to LuxLeaks, and finish the rest of the article.
Asher, if you’re reading this, I believe what you’re doing publicly is performative. I’m not convinced you two have ever had a private moment together. I guess this is me sayingprove itbecause I’m overly skeptical, but I know you won’t.
Edited to add: Proven wrong.Asher’s response.
Soundsof zooming cars echo off my building. I chug more wine and click the hyperlink, which opens my Instagram app and takes me straight to the photo on his account.
“What?” I whisper, realizing I’m no longer blocked.
My mouth drops open when I spot the picture of us in the hallway, but my hair and his profile cover my face. His fist is buried in my strands, showcasing his big hand and plump lips close to my ear. His gorgeous face steals the show, eyes closed. The photo radiates intensity, much like the moment itself.
“Oh no,” I whisper, realizing he just sealed the deal.
If he can convince LadyLux …
I swallow hard, staring at the photo, recalling how his warm breath felt against my ear and the way his voice rumbled in his throat. My thighs instinctively squeeze together. I sit up straight, my breathing becoming erratic as I read the caption, meant for me—Pretending you don’t exist.
Butterflies swarm in my stomach.
I scroll down to the comments and notice some accounts even tagged me. Most of the comments mention me directly. My face flushes crimson, and my entire body feels like it’s on fire. I stand and pace my living room, having a full-blown panic attack as I scroll. He posted it thirty-five minutes ago, and it already has thousands of comments.
The hair grab … wow.
Tap out, girl. I’ll trade you.
Is this how you let the world know you’re secretly together?