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“Or something?”
Heat floods his cheeks and forms a bridge over his nose, causing me to recoil slightly. He runs his fingers through his hair, the silky black strands flopping lazily into his face as he says, “Come on, doll.”
My heart flutters as I ascend the stairs after him. We crawl into his bed, bowing toward each other so our knees and foreheads touch, just like old times. His hand circles my waist, thumb skating beneath the hem of my blouse as he explores the small of my back.
The movement causes my eyelids to shudder while I recall every memory I have of lying in this bed. This place was my refuge for such a long time. Maybe it could be that way again.
“Parker and I made a vow,” I whisper. He flinches but doesn’t withdraw his hand. “When his father died, we made an alliance. We can’t fight anymore. The four of us have to unite against the Persian.”
He looks pensive for a second, eyes clouding with thought before he nods resolutely. “That’s probably a good idea.”
His detached tone rivals the way his hand crawls beneath my blouse. While his expression seems more in the realm of relaxed, his fingers seem excited to touch my breast, idly sliding beneath the cup of my bra to toy with my nipple. A soft sigh drifts from my lips as he nestles closer to me. It would be easy for him to make a move, but he doesn’t, choosing to circle my nipple with dedicated sweeps that make me whimper softly.
“Tommy…”
His eyebrows rise and light invades his gaze, enhancing the hazel brown with drops of amber. “Yes, doll?”
“I might have missed this.”
He massages my breast slower as a small smile curves his mouth. He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell what he’s thinking. Every instance we’ve spent in this position is rolling through his mind, just like it is mine. And I don’t want it to end.
A knock echoes at the door. Tomas pulls his hand back and sits up on his elbow, eyes critically observing whoever stands in the doorway.
“Son,” Gilbert says tentatively. I sit up in time to catch his disgusted glance in my direction. “Where the hell did your sister get that gun?”
Tomas shrugs passively. “It’s time she learned what she’s been born into.”
Gilbert hums thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s true.”
“She needs to learn to protect herself, so I’ve taken her under my wing.”
“She could absorb a great deal about the business under your care.” He pauses for a second. “Thankfully, she won’t be learning a damn thing from her mother.”
If my sneer registers, Gilbert doesn’t show it. He gestures coldly toward me and adds coldly, “She should leave.”
I glance at Tomas, who seems to be in the midst of a staring match with his father. Emotions pass through his irises while his features remain indifferent. They seem to be challenging each other quietly. And though I’m hesitant to leave, I don’t want to be the catalyst for a fight here. Gilbert probably thinks I’m worthless, just like Paulina.
“I’ll walk you out,” Tomas offers in a low voice. He focuses on me and offers a small grin. “Come on, doll.”
I’m comforted by the smile and the nickname. It’s rare to see Tomas grin with genuine warmth, the sight so foreign these days that it almost appears malicious. But I know it’s real affection, and it gives me hope that things aren’t as terrible as I think.
In the foyer, he embraces me and whispers in my ear, “We’ll talk more about the vow later, okay?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
I sigh while drifting back. “Not hating me.”
“When did I say that?”
He winks, causing me to roll my eyes as I drift out the front door. I wave one last time and walk with my security detail back to my mother’s Mercedes. One of the guards drives while I sit in the back with another, peering out the window on the way home.
Part of me wants to stop for dinner at the club so I’m not alone, but I’m well aware of how many stares I’m going to pick up. I don’t feel like dealing with my fame today. Within ten minutes, we roll in between the fountain and the front door, sunlight winking off the front windows.
When I step out of the vehicle, I’m greeted by the scent of flowers. The breeze picks up and kisses my cheek, inspiring me to close my eyes for a minute. I’m upset Tomas didn’t want me to stay, and it makes me realize how much we’re still playing games. If he had stood up to his father, then maybe we would still be in his bed, casually petting each other.
I open my eyes and wander toward the front door, limbs heavy with reflection. Every encounter I’ve had lately just feels strange and muted. I’m capable of joy, yet the anxiety I carry with me over Coach Neill being missing seems to override my happiness. I can’t even have five minutes with the only guy who shows me an ounce of respect, even if it’s fucking fleeting.
