The bathroom door opens as soon as I set two mugs of tea on the coffee table. Arya steps out in my robe, hair damp and curling around her shoulders, and I swear my heart jumps into my throat.
Of course, she's stunning. I thought so when I spilled my coffee on her, and even when she showed up for the photo shoot today drenched in rain and makeup tracking down her face. But right now, standing in my living room wrapped in my clothes, fresh-faced and cheeks scrubbed, Arya is downrightgorgeous.
“Okay,” she says with a relieved sigh. “That might’ve saved my life.”
“Tea’s ready,” I offer with a smile.
Her features light up. “You’re an actual angel.”
“Don’t go spreading that around. I have a reputation to uphold.”
She pads toward the couch and curls into one corner as I hand her a mug. “Oh my god, this is like a sleepover!”
My brows jump despite myself, and she turns to me in horror. “Like, without the actual staying over part. I just meant, like, you know when you'd have those as a kid? Not that I'd say no if thiswasa sleepover, but I'm not trying to assume anything.”
I let out a breathy laugh, tucking my legs beneath me. “I mean, itcanbe. If you'd like.”
She sips her drink quietly for a moment. “You’re really easy to be around, Olivia.”
Those words catch me off guard.
“I don’t hear that very often,” I admit. “And please, call me Liv.”
“Liv.” Arya smiles at me over the rim of her mug.
We sit there in companionable silence, rain tapping against the windows as warmth slowly returns to the room—and to her. After a few moments, she sets her mug on the coffee table before turning mischief-laced eyes my way.
“You know,” she says slowly, “most sleepovers I had involved ice cream.”
“Oh, did they? Well.” Setting down my own cup, I shove my feet into a pair of slippers and shuffle to the freezer. “I'd hate to be a disappointing host. Please tell me you like vanilla.”
“Never been called that in my life, but it's necessary sometimes.”
I snort and grab the carton, along with two mismatched bowls from the cabinet and—conveniently—cherrysyrup.
When I return to the living room, she’s cuddled deeper into the couch with my robe tucked around her legs, her curly hair frizzing as it dries. Our fingers brush again when I hand her a bowl, still electric.
“You were very prepared for this,” she says suspiciously, eyes flicking between the ice cream and the spoons.
“I’m not. This is purely coincidence.”
“Sure it is, Liv.”
I sit beside her and leave just enough space to be polite. The couch dips beneath our combined weight. “I swear it. I don't normally get very much company due to my busy work schedule, so most nights it's dessert by myself and then alone in bed.”
“Well, that sounds… lonely.” Arya slips a bite of ice cream into her mouth before moaning around the spoon. “Okay. Yeah. This absolutely qualifies as the best sleepover ever.”
The sound has me squirming in my seat, attempting to cover the way I press my thighs together. “You’re very easily won over.”
“Listen, I’ve had a long day. I got rained on twice, kissed myveryhot boss, and I've been uncomfortably wet ever since”
I choke on my own bite, and Arya blushes faster than I’ve ever seen anyone do so before.
“I didn’t mean it like that! I just… God, that sounded bad. I meant, like, corporate hierarchy-wise. Not likebossboss. And by wet, I mean the rain—”
Bursting into laughter, I wave off her babbling. “Arya. Breathe. I know what you meant. And for the record, I don’t supervise you. Different departments.”
Her shoulders slump in relief. “Oh, thank god.”
