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“Who, Ryan?” She looks over at me with wide eyes. “God, yes.” She fans herself, and I laugh harder. “That family hit the gene pool lottery.”
“Makayla,” Jane calls, pointing to a thin black box on the edge of her desk.
Slapping a hand to my chest, I suck in a breath.
Jane gives me a sheepish grin. “I peeked. I couldn’t help myself.”
I snicker as I set my coffee cup on her desk, then lift the lid to find another blue rose. I’m surprised to see a card tucked inside this time. I rip open the envelope and slide out the card. My heart rate slows, and my shoulders sag in relief.
I can’t wait to have you under me again.
“I know that look,”Jane teases.
I can’t help but smile. “What look?”
“Love.” She winks.
The smile slips from my face. “I’m not in love.”Am I?
“Okay.” Jane nods as if to saysure you’re not.
How can I be in love with X? I’ve never even seen his face. Do I know him? The basic stuff, sure. I know he’s thirty-seven, never been married, no kids, and has his own business. His favorite food is steak—preferably cooked on the grill—but his favorite thing to eat is me. His words. He takes his coffee with just a splash of cream, no sugar, and his favorite color is black.
Is it normal to want to know the person you’re having sex with in a fantasy club? Especially when that person requires you to wear a blindfold? Probably not.
Aside from knowing how I like to be fucked and the sounds I make when I come, X is the only person I told about what Victor did to me.
Curling an arm around the box, I pick up my coffee with the other and say, “I’m not in love. It’s complicated.”
I turn on my heel and head for my office as Jane’s laughter rings out behind me.
* * *
“Doyou think I’m in love with X?”
Heather stops midchew and frowns. “Doyouthink you’re in love with X?”
Shrugging, I set my sandwich down and brush off my hands. “I don’t know. He sent me a blue rose today.”
It hadn’t occurred to me until I sat down at my desk this morning that X sends me a blue rose every Monday. It’s like a memento of some sort to get me through the week until I see—well,feelhim again. I trust X more than I ever trusted Victor, and I haven’t even seen his face.
“You know what I think?” Heather asks.
I reach for my drink and take a sip. “Hmm?”
“I think you should stop spending your weekends fucking a stranger and start dating like a normal twenty-two-year-old.”
My brows snap together. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”
She holds up her hands. “Hey, you asked.” She pauses to take a sip of her drink. “I think you’re in love with your fantasy. You’re getting everything you want without the risk of getting hurt.”
I hate that she’s right, but I’m not ready to give it all up just yet. “It’s your fault for introducing me to that place,” I reply, defensively.
“It was only supposed to be one night to forget that asshole Victor.” She bugs her eyes out at me. “I didn’t expect you to get swept off your feet by some mystery man who won’t even let you see his face. Your fantasy has become your reality. The more time you spend with X, the harder it’s going to be to separate the two. Sooner or later, you’re going to want more than one night a weekend. You deserve more than that.”
Leaning back in my chair, I sigh. “It’s hard not to when we have such great chemistry. Clearly, he likes me or he wouldn’t be sending me flowers. Right?”
Heather scoffs. “He’s a member of Veil, Makayla. You’re not the first woman he’s fucked, and you won’t be the last.”
