Before I could decide, Zoe spotted me.
"Savannah! There you are," she called. “Come chat with Cami's uncle."
Uncle? Relief washed through me. Not my stranger after all, just a coincidence of similar builds and hair color.
The silver-haired man turned, and my world tilted on its axis.
It was him.
The same compelling blue eyes, the same strong jawline, the same mouth that had explored every inch of my body mere hours ago.
"Hello," he said, his deep voice perfectly controlled, betraying nothing of what had passed between us.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound emerged. My brain was frantically trying to process the impossible.
Cami's uncle?
But that would mean...
"Savannah, this is Lucas Turner," Cami said brightly.
“One of John's friends. And Miles's dad."
The room seemed to spin around me. Lucas Turner. CEO of Turner Holdings.
Miles's father.
The man I'd spent the night with was my ex-boyfriend's father.
Oh. My. God.
My stomach dropped. The room tilted. I knew that face.
Not from last night—God, I knew it from last night. I could still feel the press of his body against mine, the weight of him inside me, the way his voice had broken when he came.
No, I knew that face from a dusty photo frame in Miles’s apartment.
One I'd barely glanced at two years ago.
A forgotten relic, buried between a stack of business books and a bottle of unopened bourbon.
Lucas Turner.
Miles’s father.
I’d slept with my ex’s father.
I slept with Miles’s father.
My lungs seized, heat rising in a sharp, frantic wave. Not just shame—though there was that.
Not just horror—though, yes, that too.
It was the memory of his mouth. The way he'd looked at me like I was his to claim.
The way I’dwantedto be his.
Last night hadn’t been a mistake. That was the worst part.
