Page 76 of The Unfluencer

I give it thirty more minutes.

“No, I mean, the ‘making me jealous’ and ‘terrifying emergency landing’ parts sucked, right?” I concede her point. Then toe the line on mine. “But the kiss to make us forget… it was nice.”

Ebony sighs.

“Girl, I know, right?”

“Sis, I’m so happy for you.” Ebony’s soft swoons dissolves into a small laugh. “And honestly, relieved that all you’ve done is kiss that poor guy.”

“Hey, he kissed me,” I admit, feeling slightly self-righteous that she thought I couldn’t hold out. Regardless of the wager, it’s been one full day, and while I’m still reeling from that kiss, the last thing I need is to revert to my old ways and jump into PTSD sex, screwing up everything.

Friend, have some faith in me.

“Proud of you.” She giggles. “But I still can’t believe you don’t have the least bit of sympathy for him. He thought he was dying and you were his last wish.”

“He was the most adorable, terrified man…”

My heart thumps wildly in my chest.

“So, everything’s fine, then?” Ebony says. “Your room, the staff, the food, the art. When are you seeing him again?”

“It will be fine.” I pull my knees up to my chest. “Warner introduced me to his estate manager, and had her show me to my room, which is… breathtaking, vibrant, five-star resort-tier elegance. Designed with inventive uses of color and pattern. She’s kept me abreast of the storm alerts, made sure I ate, just warm and welcoming as anything. But I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

“Wait, he’s avoiding you?” Disbelief laces Ebony’s tone. “What kind of⁠—”

“Exactly. How do you kiss a woman until her body aches for more, then pretend it didn’t happen just because we lived? Insane behavior.”

“Girl, if it’s not one thing, it’s another.”

We both laugh.

“Right. Hello? What do you mean we’re just about to sit here avoiding each other and not even working like I’m pressed?”

“Y’all evaded death together. He should be falling faster,” she says.

“Exactly.” I let out a long sigh. “Sir, I felt that kiss down to my toes. A month ago, I would’ve knocked on every door, found him, and asked to see the collection, so I could take the first thing flying or ferrying out here. I would’ve found myself a Bahamian paradise hotel. Shoot, don’t threaten me with a good time…”

Ebony pauses briefly. I’m guessing she’s as struck as I am by the past tense.

“And now?” she prompts me.

The truth is, I chose to call Ebony specifically. Not because my other divas don’t need updates or kissing that fine-ass man is some classified secret. I don’t actually even need advice. Technically, that kiss… the way it left me disoriented, lingered, settled under my skin, refusing to let go… In a way, it forced us to be vulnerable faster. It was communication on every biological, physiological, and cellular level that words couldn’t have ever conveyed as well in the moment. The kiss was intense, and my brain knows exactly why that’s dangerous.

My body doesn’t need advice about what to do after a kiss like that.

My instincts, on the other hand, aren’t being helpful at all. They’re the problem.

Most of them, anyway, aside from staying alive.

And this is where Ebony comes in. What I’m hoping for is a sounding board with a side of hard-earned wisdom, and of my divas, she’s the only one who’s got it. She and Linc worked together too. Last year, she planned a wedding at Ellswood’s Madison Manor, a luxury venue he was contracted to restore to its former glory. They were in that building hours daily for months. What I want to know is how they managed to get anything done once the sexual tension was there.

How do you tiptoe around that kind of undeniable attraction long enough to stay focused and get the job done?

Because right now, art, collections, even my own gallery are nowhere near my radar, knowing he’s upstairs.

“I’m testing him,” I say, more certain than ever.

“From the comfort of your swanky beach-and-beyond room?”