His eyes fix on mine. “Ophelia. I’m not going to let you win off a technicality. You’re too talented and intelligent to accept a cheap win.”
My mouth is open, ready to argue. I close it.
That’s maybe the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.
“We’ll have a rematch,” he negotiates. “Valentine’s Day. After the party. Once everyone goes home. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Look at us. Making future plans. Slowly easing back into a…something. Not a relationship. But something. Like slipping into a bath full of piping hot water.
I have to take my time, or I’ll get burned.
He kisses me. I don’t think he meant to. It’s a sudden, knee-jerk gesture, like in this post-sex haze he’s lost all of his inhibitions. I make a small, surprised noise against his lips. And then I melt into it.
It feels so good to kiss him.
His kiss is strong, and safe, and he tastes entirely like me.
Phantom pulls on his clothes. He finishes cleaning up, and then he leaves. At the door, he sayssee you later, which sounds a lot likefuck you later,and my whole body tingles at the prospect. He’s not gone three minutes before my phone buzzes.
It’s a text. From Dove.
[Text: Dove]
You’re never going to believe this.
She sends a selfie of herself. She’s sitting on Dorian’s couch, blanket in her lap. Dorian’s black cat, Behemoth, has settled into Dove’s lap. The cat’s eyes are closed and she looks cozy.
[Text: Dove]
She’s purring.
I can’t help it. I smile and “heart” the picture.
Who knows? Maybe peoplecanchange.
32
Phantom.Now.
I come home and the place is transformed.
Princess has gone with ared and blacktheme, giving my old-school New York brownstone a romantic, gothic atmosphere. From table runners to candle stands and little bowls of chocolate-heart candies, she’s thought of everything. And, of course, there’s too much glitter everywhere, and it’s never going to come out but—problem for another day.
I could give her a bigger budget. I could hire a professional to spruce the place up. But that’s not the point. The Seekers Club isn’t a VIP experience for the elite—it was never meant to be. There’s plenty enough places a person can go for that.
No—this is a family. Operated with nothing but passion and perversion.
It warms my cold heart to see what she’s done with the place.
I find Princess at the kitchen table, still working on her heart-shaped cut-outs.
“Wow. It looks amazing,” I tell her.
“I know.” Princess beams.
I’m carrying the bag of supplies she requested, and I set them down on the kitchen table. She immediately goes rummaging through them.
