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He just needed an excuse to touch me.
Yes.
This was the life I wanted.
Tessie had a burger in one hand and fries in the other as Bastian and I made our way to the kitchen, dressed, hair blow dried, and bodies a respectable distance apart.
Didn’t matter.
I still felt him all over me.
Tessie bit into the burger and looked at us. “You guys took so long, so I ordered food.”
A greasy burger and the equivalent of oil with a side of fries hardly constituted as food, but I supposed Bastian and I couldn’t say anything after he’d screwed my brains out in the shower while Tessie waited for her breakfast.
He pressed a kiss to her temple, pocketed his keys and phone, and headed to the door. “Call me if you need something.”
I waited for the door to shut before taking a seat beside her and stealing a fry. “Do you have schoolwork?”
She slid her food from me and inched away a bit. “I finished it.”
I arched a brow. “Really?”
“Well, I’m almost done. I have piano practice.”
“Is that piano yours?” I nodded to the piano behind us, to the side of the living room in the open-plan apartment.
He had the craziest place I’d ever seen.
A two-story penthouse with a view of Central Park. Marble flooring in the foyer, bathrooms, kitchen, and stairs. Dark wood in the living room, floor to ceiling curtains, and a wall to wall window overlooking the park.
The piano sat to the side of the living room, beside the stairwell. It’d been maintained well, like the rest of the penthouse, but I couldn’t picture him playing it. Or Tessie. She just didn’t seem like she had the attention span.
Tessie shook her head, her wild hair bouncing back and forth over her face. “It’s Bastian’s. He doesn’t play anymore, but he keeps it because he wants to teach Ever—” She stopped and took a bite of her burger.
“Who is Everett?”
“I’m not allowed to talk about Everett. I’ll get in trouble.”
“Not even for me?”
She thought about it for a few seconds. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t want to get in trouble.”
The guilt came instantly.
I hadn’t asked for the bureau. I had asked because I genuinely wanted to know more about Bastian.
But putting Tessie in this position wasn’t my best move. It was the reflex of a shameless undercover agent, used to extracting information from any source possible.
Sometimes, I hated myself.
I wondered if I’d ever shake away the parts of me I loathed.
The bed dipped and an arm wrapped around my waist late into the night.
I’d been in a light sleep for hours, but I woke the instant Bastian’s skin touched mine. I glanced at the clock.
Four in the morning.
