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I sent her a scowl, peeking out at the crowd again. Of course, it skated over Trevan, stalling out for a moment too long.

“You’d better fess it up right now. I’ve been dying all freaking afternoon, and you haven’t let on a peep. I know you were busy and all, catching your dream…” She played it off like she was irritated by it. “But I’m in physical pain over here.”

“You think you’re in physical pain? How about standing in my shoes for a few minutes,” I tossed at her.

Wearing five-inch heels for probably the first time in my life, and my feet felt like they’d been munched from a size seven down to a five.

I didn’t know how she did it.

She let her gaze drop over me like she’d heard my thought out loud. “Stop complaining. You look hot as hell. Bonus point: I’d bet a million bucks that Trevan is the one who is in physical pain. Look at him over there, squirming and itching, peeking over at you every three seconds. The man looks like he’s about to come out of his skin.”

She wagged a prodding finger in his direction. “That is the look of a man who had a tiny taste but isn’t even close to satisfied. One who’s ready to ravage and devastate. Not that he didn’t always before, but there is something there tonight that hasn’t been before. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Some of the shyness crept in. “You’re not wrong.”

She squealed. Squealed and grabbed my hand and hauled me down into the dusky hall. The only light filtering into it was from the main room, and it concealed us from the rest of the party.

Still, she kept her voice muted, her eyes flitting all over my face.

Worry and pure glee.

“What happened?”

I gnawed at my bottom lip.

I didn’t even know how to put it into words because I still couldn’t figure out how we’d ended up in that position.

“Ugh, I don’t even know if it counts as anything.” I groaned as I shook my head.

“Did it count to you?”

Brinley always knew how to get to the heart of it.

I looked up at her. “Yes. So much. Even though it still feels like it was a dream. Like I imagined the whole thing.”

“And what exactly did you imagine?” Wryness filled her tone.

“I don’t know. Since we moved into my apartment, there’s just been this extra tension between us. This thick, sticky, sweet awareness.”

I inhaled a cleansing breath. “I think it was always there since we’re around each other so much. You know I always chalked it up to me just wanting it to be there. But once we were in the close quarters of my apartment…”

The intensity I felt with Trevan swilled, and I started to rush through the explanation. “The brushes and lingered moments got to the point where there was no way in hell I was imagining them. And after what happened that morning…”

I trailed off, still mortified by the fact I’d rubbed myself all over Trevan in that way.

In my freaking sleep.

“But he still climbed into bed with you the next night?” A single brow arched like she was offering proof. “He must not have minded all that much.”

A hoarse laugh got free. “Well, he didn’t seem to because after that everything just got…heavier. Then yesterday, one of the artists I’m showcasing here at the store sent me a present. It was a painting of me, and it was kind of one of those ambiguous paintings where you can’t fully tell what’s happening, but I think I was naked.”

The description flooded out like a hushed secret.

“I think Trevan pretty much thought it, too, because he was helping me hang it over my bed, and the next thing I knew he had⁠—”

Redness flared, and my attention jumped back out to the main room to make sure no one was listening. “Let’s just say I ended up without my panties, and his hand was there instead.”

Brinley’s eyes blew wide and shock rounded her mouth. “Oh my God. He actually did get you naked. I was just teasing, thinking maybe you two had just made out or something.”