She tilts her head up again, studying my face, and I see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Did I just reject her? Does she think this was just physical?
I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me.
“This wasn’t just—” I stop, struggling to find the words. “I don’t know what this is yet. But it’s not nothing. Okay?”
“Okay.” She smiles, small but real. “Okay.”
I kiss her one more time—soft, lingering—andthen make myself stand up. I put myself back together while she watches from the couch, wrapped in a throw blanket, looking thoroughly kissed and utterly beautiful.
“Goodnight, Win.”
“Goodnight, Banks.”
I let myself out before I can change my mind.
The drive home is quiet—just me, the empty streets, and the memory of her taste on my lips, her sounds in my ears, the feel of her body against mine.
I don’t know what we’re doing or where this is going. I have no idea how to navigate any of it.
But as I pull into my parking garage and cut the engine, one thing is crystal clear:
I’m falling in love with her.
And I have no idea what to do about it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rule Breaker
Winnie
“Start from the beginning. Don’t leave anything out.”
Tori sits cross-legged on her couch, a wine glass in hand, wearing her “emergency debrief” outfit—an oversized sweater, a messy bun, and zero judgment. Zayden took Maisie to the park specifically so we could have this conversation, which means Tori already knows something significant happened.
I don’t even know where to begin. “The gala was nice,” I start.
“Skip the nice parts. Get to the good stuff.”
I groan. “The good stuff is complicated.”
“The good stuff is always complicated. That’s what makes it good.” She takes a sip of wine. “Spill.”
I take a breath. Then another. Then I drain half my wine glass in one go. “We kissed,” I say. “For real.”
Tori’s eyes go wide. Then her face splits into a grin so bright it could power the city. “I knewit. I knew something happened. You’ve had that look—”
“What look?”
“The ‘I did something I shouldn’t have and I don’t regret it’ look. It’s very specific.” She sets down her wine and leans forward. “Tell me everything. Where? When? How? Was there tongue? There was tongue, wasn’t there? I can tell by your face there was tongue.”
“Tori.”
“What? I’m invested. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened since Zayden proposed.” She waves her hand impatiently. “Go. Talk. Details.”
So I tell her.
I tell her about the dance floor—how he held me, how safe I felt, how I nearly ruined everything by asking about other women. I tell her about him dragging me off the floor, pulling me into that storage room, the intensity in his eyes. I tell her about the kiss.
