Page 86 of Maneater

She tips her head left, then right, before answering.

“I think it would be sketchier if you refused, but I also know that if you want to keep your distance, that would be fine. I support your decision either way.”

“Why are you being so nice?” I ask with a sneer, not used to this gentler version of Rory. She shrugs.

“I don’t know. Trying something new. Plus, if Gabriel trusts it, I have to trust it. This job doesn’t work if we don’t trust the big guy.”

I nod, knowing that also to be true. I also know the truth of what she doesn’t say:the job doesn’t work if we don’t trust each other. At the end of the day, Rory trusts me to make the decision I feel will be best, not just for myself, but for the case.

“What if heasks me about the card?”

“I think you know what to say if he asks about that,” she says, a sympathetic look on her face.

“Or I could just avoid the subject altogether,” I contemplate, always happy to avoid uncomfortable conversations whenever possible. Healthy? Probably not. Good for my anxiety? Questionable. My preference? Absolutely.

Rory sighs, then stands before moving toward where I lie on the couch. When she stretches out a hand to me, I take it begrudgingly before she pulls me up to her.

“Reply and say you’ll be ready in twenty. Get hot. Then go have dessert, get laid, and tell him the truth.”

“In that order?” I ask because I could possibly work with that. She gives me the look a mother gives her child who is trying to avoid eating vegetables.

“In whatever order makes the most sense.” I grimace at her, and she lets out a laugh before reaching for my phone and offering it to me. “Go. Text the hot man and get some. I don’t think it’s going to be as dire as you fear.” I stare at the phone like it’s a grenade before groaning and taking it, knowing she’s right.

Yeah, I can be ready in twenty.

I hit send on the text and leave my phone face down on the bathroom counter while I go pick out my hottest dress and underwear set I packed, going forfemme fatale, couldn’t resist me if he triedvibes. By the time I head back to the bathroom to fix my hair and makeup, I already have a simple reply from him telling me where to meet him.

When I arrive at the lobby in the hottest red dress I’ve ever owned and my highest heels, my hands are shaking. When I see Rowan leaning against the wall beside the restaurant he told me to meet him at, my heart nearly stops. He’s too fucking handsome for his own good, and I wonder if he even knows it. In dark slacks and a white button-down, once more rolled to the elbows, his hair pushed back neatly, he’s every woman’s dream man.

He’smydream man, which makes the sudden reality that I might lose it all even more painful. The last time I saw him, he wasrightfully mad at me, or at the very least, confused and frustrated, and we haven’t addressed it at all.

But when he sees me approach and pushes off the wall to take a few steps towards me, his face beaming, I almost forget it all. The lies, the assignment, the assumptions, the accusations.

He looks like a man excited to go on a date, nothing more.

And when he pulls me into him, one arm wrapping my waist and one going to my hair before he kisses me deeply, the rest of my nerves melt away. He pulls back, a heated smile on his lips.

‘You like dessert?”

“It’s my favorite food group.”

He smiles then, passing his lips to mine again.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs.

“It’s a special night,” I tell him, low and full of anticipation.

His look goes dark and wanting before he dips his head again, like he can’t help himself.

“Do you want to go get a dessert, or do you want to come up to my room with me?” he whispers against my lips. A shiver runs through me, but before I can tell him that I wouldloveto go up to his room with him, a different response tumbles from my lips.

“Are you still mad at me?” I ask, desperate to know the answer. I realize that I need to know before I can even think about relaxing.

“I was never mad, Josie,” he says, his lips brushing along my neck, sending a thrill through me. “I was confused. I was stressed.”

“And now you’re not?”

“Now I want you more than any of that matters.”