Say You Still Love Me: Chapter 21

Kyle’s intense gaze lingers on me as I approach the security desk on Monday morning. We said goodbye last night just before ten P.M., after gorging on pizza and hearing about Jeremy’s recent exploits. Kyle walked me to the taxi and left me with a searing kiss, only to then text me well into the night.

It’s been exactly ten hours and seven minutes since his lips last touched mine, and I’m anxious to feel them on me again. In fact it’s all I can think about.

I’m an addict and Kyle is my drug of choice.

“Hello? You wanted my ID?” the man in front of Kyle says, waving his driver’s license in the air, irritation in his voice.

Kyle clears his throat as he collects it. “Uh . . . yeah, sorry. Who are you here to see again?” His eyes flash to me before refocusing on the visitor, his lips curling in a small smile.

“Good morning, Miss Calloway,” Gus greets, half his attention on the underground parking entrance monitor. “You sure are sparkling this morning.”

“I am?” I glance down to take in my forest-green silk blouse and black pencil skirt. It’s then that I realize I’m grinning like a fool, and I feel my cheeks begin to flush.

Gus reaches across the desk to hit a button. On the monitor, the arm lifts, allowing the car through. “Good weekend, I take it?”

“It was amazing, actually. Best one I’ve had in years,” I say, loud enough for Kyle to hear. Like, thirteen years.

“I’ll bet,” Gus murmurs knowingly.

“And you? How was your weekend?”

He shrugs. “The usual. Grandkids, church, poker. Not at the same time.”

“Sounds relaxing.” I steal another glance at Kyle. He’s busy photocopying the visitor’s ID, and there are two other people waiting behind that guy. I won’t get a chance to talk to him this morning, I realize with disappointment. I definitely won’t get a chance to kiss him.

“Renée, David’s new assistant, is already in. Mark took her upstairs.” Gus peels the lid off his paper coffee cup to finish the last drops. “Fifty bucks says she runs for the hills by the end of the week.”

“I’d take that bet if I felt comfortable taking your money, Gus. I think she’s going to work out just fine.”

“If you say so,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with doubt.

“Have a great day.” I swipe my badge, stealing one last glance at Kyle.

The green light flashes, allowing me through.

“That was some dress, by the way,” Gus calls out.

I turn back to give him a questioning look.

“That silvery number you had on this past Saturday. You know, while you were sittin’ in my chair, stuffing your face with one of those big, juicy Alejandro burgers you keep giving me so much grief about.”

“How did you . . .” My words fade as I peer up at the security camera that’s trained on the lobby.

“Sometimes I like to skim the surveillance tapes from the weekend shifts, especially when I’ve got a newbie working. Want to make sure they’re not doing something they’re not supposed to be doin’.”

Kyle’s eyes flash to mine and I see the “oh shit” look of panic in them.

“Well, it’s a good thing Kyle is proving to be such a good employee,” I say evenly.

Gus makes a sound, something that seems like agreement but could also be otherwise. “Also explains why my chair was all out of whack. Took me twenty minutes to get it sorted this morning.”

“Oh, sorry. You know . . . long legs and all.”

He chuckles. “Have a good day, Miss Calloway. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone your secret.” Big brown eyes flash to me and he waits a few beats. “About Alejandro’s.”

I know for a fact he’s not talking about the burger.

Mark trails me into my office.

“Your morning reports are in the blue folder on the left. I’ve already summarized the market stats and the PowerPoint deck for your ten A.M. is finished . . .” He goes on and on, briefing me on everything he’s done to help me prepare for another long, grueling week ahead.

“Thank you. As always, you’re on top of things.” Whereas I am not. I plan on hiding in my office and reviewing the rest of this construction proposal from KDZ. “Oh, I need a contact at our corporate cell phone company. Whoever manages Calloway’s contract. Not the account handler but the executive at the top of that chain. And I need that number and name ASAP.” I’m hoping Kyle’s right and Tripp is stupid enough to have incriminating text conversations on his company phone.

Mark nods, his brow furrowed with determination.

“How’s everything on that front going so far?” I nod to where Renée sits, her long blonde hair pulled into a chic topknot, scowling at her monitor. She’s wearing a tomato-red dress that, oddly enough, reminds me of the Wawa staff T-shirts, only the color is flattering on her.

Mark follows my gaze. “Good so far, but David’s not in yet. Carla from HR asked me if I could show Renée the ropes this morning. You know—her computer, and security pass, and all that. I figure it’ll take an hour at most. You okay with that? After I get this contact for you, of course.”

“Yes, because the sooner she’s up to speed, the sooner David will stop pestering us.” I drop my bag and sink into my chair with a heavy sigh as I take in the pile of work already forming for me. More signatures, more approvals, more, more, more.

And then I notice the packet of sour apple Fun Dip in my silver spoon figurine, and I start to laugh. We never did get a chance to eat those last night.

“Yeah, I noticed that on your desk this morning. Do you know who left it for you?”

“I do, actually.”

Mark lingers another moment, eyeing me carefully. “You seem awfully chipper this morning.”

“Do I?” I can’t keep the private smile from curling my lips. Maybe because I haven’t felt this alive and free since I was sixteen years old.

His gaze flickers to the candy pack again. “So, I guess that person works at Calloway.”

He’s fishing for details.

“Don’t you have a number to find me?” I remind him, though I wink to let him know I’m not bothered by his nosiness.

“Right.” He’s out the door in a flash.

I type out a text to Kyle’s number:

Two razz apple Fun Dips says you won’t let me take you out to dinner tonight.

The answer comes almost immediately:

Four says you won’t ask me to go home with you after.

I quickly respond:

Meet me at eight at my place. And bring your work clothes with you for the morning.

Two knocks rattle the glass door. I look up in time to see my dad poke his head in.

“David has a new assistant?”

“Yes, he hired her late last week. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

“He called, but I was preoccupied. So what’d you think of the proposal?”

I sigh heavily. “Good morning to you, too, Dad,” I offer, not bothering to hide my annoyance. It’s barely eight a.m.

He makes a point of slowly saying, “Good morning, Piper. What did you think of the proposal?”

“I’m still reviewing it.”

“But so far . . .”

“I’m still reviewing.” And still annoyed—at Dad for what he did thirteen years ago, but more at the fact that I’m twenty-nine years old and here I am, hiding my love interest from my parents. “I only just got it late on Saturday, remember? And I was busy yesterday. I had lunch with Mom.”

Dad makes a sound, the same sound he always makes when Mom is mentioned—a mixture of disapproval and scorn.

“She’s dating someone,” I offer, unprompted. “She sounds happy.”

“Well . . .” He searches my area rug for something to say. “She’s not getting any younger. Maybe this one will stick. I’m sitting down with Tripp this morning at eleven to discuss the Marquee. You should be there if you can make it work in your calendar.”

“I can’t,” I begin to say, but he’s out the door and marching to his office.

I groan. My women’s network meeting is at eleven and, no, I can’t just bump everyone. But I also need to be in this meeting with Tripp and my father. My father may have acknowledged his own part in sabotaging my importance in the company, but that doesn’t mean he won’t sign off on KDZ’s proposal without me.

“Mark!” I holler, rubbing the back of my neck as tension mounts.

Wishing I were back in Kyle’s bed, with his arms wrapped around me and the door to the outside world firmly shut.

“Knock, knock,” I announce, strolling into Dad’s palatial office at exactly eleven A.M., to see the back of his throne-like leather chair. He’s looking out over the view of Lennox’s downtown core, his phone pressed to his ear.

“I’ve got a meeting now. I’ll call you later?” he murmurs, and I know without a doubt that it’s not a business call. Especially when he releases a low, playful chuckle.

“How old is this one?” I ask, after he ends the call.

He spins around to face me. “I thought we were staying out of each other’s relationships.”

I settle into the chair directly across from him. “Is she at least older than me?” I dread the day I find out otherwise. The day he becomes that stereotype.

“Have I dated anyone younger than you yet?”

“No. Key word being yet.”

He regards me evenly. “If I told you she’s thirty-five and she makes me happy, would you approve?”

“So she’s the same age as your son. I wonder if they went to school together. Maybe they dated.”

“And this is why I don’t tell you about the women I see,” he mutters, annoyed.

“Hey. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” That’s a self-serving declaration if I’ve ever heard one, but I’ll be able to remind him of it in the future, when he finds out about Kyle. It’s only a matter of time.

I note with surprise the cell phone spoon rest sitting on Dad’s desk, the twin to mine. The one that Dad sneered at weeks ago and wanted to throw out. I’m about to ask him about it when Tripp strolls in.

“Kieran! Good to see you again! Piper . . . don’t you look nice.” He barely glances at me.

I struggle not to roll my eyes and give my father the flattest “see?” look I can muster.

“Sounds like you’ve been putting in some long hours lately,” my dad offers as Tripp takes the vacant chair beside me.

“That’s because you’ve raised a slave driver.” Tripp chuckles, and it’s not the fake laugh that’s always directed at me. It’s the laugh of a man who is comfortable and pleased. Perhaps because he’s been granted an audience with the king again after what I’m guessing he deemed a demotion, having to report into me. Perhaps because he thinks this arrangement with KDZ is a lock.

“That’s what I like to hear.” My dad winks at me.

I stifle another urge to roll my eyes. Please tell me Dad’s swift enough to see that Tripp is using his weakness—me—to score points.

“So you’ve had a chance to go through the contract? It’s solid, right? I told you they were coming in strong. They really want this. More than Jameson, based on what I’ve seen.” Tripp speaks directly to my father, as if I’m not even in the room.

“And have you received the updated proposal from Jameson already? Did you forget to send that one to me, too?” I ask lightly, sliding my jab in.

Tripp offers me a forced smile. “No, I haven’t.”

“Then you’ll be getting it soon. Gary said it would be in today.”

“They’ve had plenty of time to deliver. More than KDZ.”

“They’re reworking their numbers to meet our new timelines,” I say, keeping my voice even.

He snorts. “What they’re doing is trying to make a rabbit appear out of a hat. I’ve seen this before, a hundred times. You’ll start to recognize it one day, don’t you worry.”

And there’s another condescending jab.

The urge to lean over and punch him is overwhelming. I grit my teeth into a smile. “By the way, how do you know this Hank Kavanaugh?”

“How do I know him?” Tripp shrugs. “I know him like I know all my contacts. Through years of carefully cultivating industry relationships.”

“A lot of golf, I’ll bet.”

“Yes, well . . .” He chuckles. “That’s how things have gotten done over the decades that your father and I have been at this.”

Well played, Tripp. Position yourself as equal to my father. Keep trying to make me look inexperienced and dumb. I’ll admit, I am inexperienced when you stack up résumés.

But I am not dumb.

“So that’s how you two met? Golfing?” I push.

His eyes narrow as he assesses me a few beats, as if searching for an answer. Why is she asking me this? What does she know? “We went to the same college. That was definitely a conversation starter for us.”

Actually, you two were roommates. Something I can’t blurt out without letting on that I’ve been digging into Tripp’s past. But that he didn’t mention it now . . . He’s hiding a potential conflict of interest. That’s another red flag.

Tripp waits another few beats and, when I don’t respond, turns back to my father. “Kieran, Hank is ready to commit today. You know where my head’s at on this and I’ve been around the block a few times.”

My dad regards him with his naturally steely eyes. “So have I.”

Tripp holds his hands up in surrender. “All I’m saying is, I’m telling you, KDZ is the right move for the Marquee project.”

Dad’s lips twist in thought. I know that look. It’s the one he gets when he’s about to make a decision.

“I disagree,” I blurt out.

Tripp’s sigh is poorly concealed.

“Why?” my father asks evenly.

I don’t have much choice anymore. Still, I choose my words carefully, keeping my gaze on my father. “Because there is a rumor that KDZ has been known to offer kickbacks to secure contracts.”

“That’s bullshit!” Tripp bursts. “Where did you hear something like that?”

“A reliable source.”

“Who?” he demands to know.

I remain calm. “No one I am going to name at this time.”

“And so what are you implying, Piper? What, that I’m taking a kickback?” Tripp adjusts his position in his seat, the casual slouch replaced with stiff indignation. “After giving almost thirty goddamn years to your family’s company, you’re accusing me of that? Kieran?” He looks with bewilderment at my father.

“I’m sure that’s not what Piper is implying.” My father’s cold blue gaze lands on me and there is a distinct warning in there.

Meanwhile, Tripp’s face is flushed red with anger. It’s so convincing that my stomach sinks with dread. Is Kyle wrong about what he overheard?

What if I just made a horrible mistake?

I clear my throat, mainly to steady my voice. The worst thing I can do right now is come off sounding hesitant. “I have someone looking into the claim right now. If it turns up false, then I’m fine with considering KDZ’s proposal.”

Tripp sighs heavily, and gathers some level of composure. “Kieran, blowing up a solid contract because your daughter heard a rumor is a terrible business move.”

My dad’s eyes shift back and forth between us. “I agree.”

My mouth drops open. Did he just side with Tripp, again?

Rage and shock bubble inside me.

“But,” my father continues, staying my sharp tongue from letting loose something that I’ll no doubt regret—like, that I quit—“I don’t believe Piper would come forward with an accusation this serious if she didn’t have solid intel.”

I breathe the softest sigh of relief. And again, that twinge of dread surfaces. Is what Kyle overheard really “solid intel”?

Dad shuffles a stack of paperwork—he still refuses to review presentations digitally. “We need to see Jameson’s revised proposal and have the team weigh in before we make any decisions. Hank can talk to me if he has an issue with this. Piper, a word, alone.”

Tripp heaves his lumpy body out of his chair and storms off, leaving the door wide open.

“Greta! Door,” my dad barks. Moments later, Greta pokes her head in to quickly close it.

“What the hell was that!” Dad explodes in a rare burst. “When did you hear about this supposed kickback?”

My heart begins to race in my chest. “About a week ago.”

“A week!” His eyebrows crawl halfway up his head. “Who told you?”

“That’s not important—”

“The hell it’s not!” He picks up a pen, only to throw it across his desk. “Who is your source?”

“Did you know that Hank Kavanaugh and Tripp were roommates at Minden College? And they also played on a men’s soccer team, together,” I say instead. “That’s more than just a conversation starter.”

Dad stalls on whatever he was going to say. “So you are accusing Tripp of accepting a kickback. That’s why you think he’s gunning for this contract.”

“Not officially.” There’s no point denying it anymore. “But yes, I believe he has made a deal with Kavanaugh for a five-hundred-thousand-dollar payout.”

Dad’s angular jaw tightens. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Would you have believed me?”

“No. I still don’t.”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m doing more digging. I have them pulling Tripp’s phone records for all deleted text messages in case there’s something there.” That required a tense half-hour conversation with the VP of our phone company, who was more than reluctant, citing a need to speak to his legal counsel first, until I asked him to verify for me how much our corporate bill was last year and when CG’s contract with them is up.

“He wouldn’t be that foolish.”

“He was foolish enough to have an open conversation on his phone about it.” Arrogance and bitterness make people do stupid things.

“Who overheard him?” he pushes. “Jill? Mark? I know it wasn’t David. He would have told me.”

I fold my arms over my chest and press my lips together tightly.

He sinks into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I do not like being blindsided, Piper.”

“I’m sorry. I was afraid you were about to make a huge mistake by agreeing to this.”

He spins in his chair, turning his back to me as he gazes out over the city again. “Let me know what you find. And don’t ever say I didn’t back you.”

I take this as my dismissal, and leave my seat to head for the door.

“Did David tell you about dinner tonight?” He spins back around, and suddenly he looks ten years older than he did when I walked in here.

“No.”

“He’s meeting with Drummond tonight to try to lock them in.”

The anchor tenant for the Waterway project. Right. “Okay?”

“I was going to go with him but something’s come up for me tonight, and I think you should go.”

Warning bells go off. Is this another attempt to get David and me back together? “Dad—”

“This is business, Piper,” he snaps. “I don’t give a rat’s ass if you two screw each other or kill each other after dessert, as long as we have an anchor tenant nailed down before the unveiling ceremony next month!”

I hold my hands in the air, in surrender. “Okay. We will take care of it.”

“Good. That’ll be all,” he mutters, his focus already shifting to his paperwork.

I duck out before he can bark at me about anything else, balling my fists to hide my shaking hands. I don’t know that he’s ever yelled at me like that before. The news about Tripp’s potential deceit must be hitting him hard.

Then again, I can’t blame him for reacting that way. The Waterway project is worth well over a billion dollars. He’s right; we need to nail this tenant. That he’s entrusting me to do it is a big sign of approval. He would never use an important business meeting like that for something as trivial as setting David and me up for a reconciliation. I’m an idiot for thinking otherwise.

I start to laugh.

“Is everything okay, Piper?”

I turn to see Greta peering down over her reading glasses at me, her wrinkled hands paused over her keyboard. I’ve known the woman all my life. She has a severe gaze and it used to scare me when I was little.

“Yes, it’s fine.”

Because my dad is finally treating me like a worthy colleague.

With a sigh of disappointment, I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Kyle, to change plans.

“Do you need anything else done today, David?” Renée peers up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes from behind her desk, her pen poised to take notes.

“I’m good, Renée. You’ve been here since eight? Go home. See you in the morning.” He flashes his signature panty-dropping smile—that’s literally what I’ve heard him call it—and then falls into step beside me as we head toward the elevator. With traffic, we’ll just barely make our dinner reservation with Drummond.

“You’re happier than a peacock in front of a mirror today,” I murmur.

“She brought me an apple,” he whispers with excitement. “I came in and there it was, just sitting on my desk, like a gift.”

“How long before you find her sitting on your desk like a gift, I wonder.”

David’s manicured eyebrows arch with surprise. “Is someone finally jealous?”

I laugh. “Just please don’t do anything that will earn you a sexual assault allegation.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t shit where I eat.”

I step into the elevator with a cringe. “Nice. Plus, have you already forgotten?” I waggle a finger between us.

“That was different.” He hits the ground-floor button.

“Why? Because of my position?”

“Which one, exactly? I’ve seen you in so many.” He smirks, proud of himself for that tasteless joke.

I simply shake my head.

“What’s with Kieran today, anyway? He nearly bit my head off.”

“That’s my fault.”

“What’d you do?”

“I ambushed him. But I can’t get into it. What do I need to know about tonight?”

The elevator doors open, letting us out into the lobby.

“Drummond wants to sign, but . . .”

David’s words drift as my attention veers to the security desk, to the tall, solid figure leaning against it, talking to Roland, the nighttime security guard who never smiles. It’s half past six, well after Kyle’s shift change. Still, he lingered. I’d like to think it was so he could see me before my dinner meeting, even though he’s coming to my place afterward.

He turns to watch me approach, his eyes drifting down the length of my body, the smile on his lips mischievous.

Flashes of yesterday in his condo hit me—of what’s beneath that uniform, of what his hands feel like on me, of what his weight feels like on me—and my body begins to heat.

Just one business dinner and then he’s mine again, I remind myself. God, this workday feels as long as the ones at Wawa.

“Piper?” David nudges me.

“Hmm?”

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“No. Sorry. What?”

“We’re playing good cop, bad cop tonight. You’re bad.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re terrible at kissing ass.”

“Fine.” He’s right, I am.

He glares ahead. “What’s with that security guard?”

My stomach tightens. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the guy just stripped you with his eyes. You didn’t notice?”

I feel my cheeks flush. “No. And don’t say anything to him,” I warn as we approach the security gate. “Good night, guys.”

Roland simply nods, his face wearing its usually stony mask.

“Have a good night, Miss Calloway.” Kyle’s voice is practically dripping with promise, his eyes so heavy on me that I have to avert mine.

“Good night, Kyle.”

We’ve made it halfway to the exterior doors when David’s legs suddenly stall. “Oh . . . You have got to be kidding me.”

“What?”

He cocks his head at me, then looks back at Kyle, who’s still leaning against the desk, watching us, then turns back to me, his eyes shining with awareness. “You’re screwing the building security guard?” he hisses with disbelief.

Oh, shit. I close my eyes. For such an obnoxious ass, sometimes David surprises me with how in tune he can be.

His head falls back with a bellow of laughter.

“I’m not!” I glance around quickly. Thankfully no one’s within earshot.

“Oh give me a break, Piper. We were together for two years. I can practically smell the pheromones pouring off you.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Really?” He mock-frowns. “I think I’ll go ask him.”

I sink my nails into David’s forearm before he takes a step. “Don’t, David.”

“Then start talking. I think I have a right to know before everyone else when my ex-fiancée is rebounding with the help.” David’s amusement over this has faded quickly.

“It’s not like that. I’ve known him for years. And he’s not the help.” I steal a glance Kyle’s way. The smile and easy stance are gone, and he’s heading this way. I hold up a hand to stall him. Thankfully, he stops.

“So this is why Kieran was so pissy today? How is this guy still in the building?”

“No, that has nothing to do with Kyle. That’s because of the kickback with Tripp.”

This time David’s jaw drops. “Come again?”

“We don’t have time to stand here and do this right now, David. We’re gonna be late.”

He glances at his watch. “It’s a fifteen-minute cab ride over. Start talking.”

I glance back once at Kyle, to see his narrowed eyes. It’s fine, I mouth. Though I don’t know if I believe that. Barely twenty-four hours and we’ve already been found out, by the one guy who will go running to my father.

Kyle is sitting on the park bench across from my building when my cab pulls up at half past nine, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, his arm resting on his backpack. The mere sight of him there, waiting for me, gets my blood racing.

I pay the driver and then slide out of the taxi, just as Kyle rounds the back end of it.

“I thought you were going to wait for me inside?” I sink into his firm body, reveling in the scent of his soap and cologne as my hands slide over his side, smoothing over his back. “Did Ashley not let you up?”

“It’s okay. It’s a nice night out.” He wraps his arms around me. “I wanted to meet you down here.”

“I’m sorry. Dinner took way longer than I expected it to.” I stretch onto my tiptoes and press my mouth against his, releasing a moan at how soft his lips are. “I have been waiting all day to do that.”

“I know. Me, too.” He pushes a wayward strand of hair off my face. “How did your meeting go?”

“Which one?” I grumble. David forced me to go for a drink with him afterward to grill me on all things Kyle and kickbacks. He knows everything now. My summer at Wawa, the payout from my father, how Kyle overheard Tripp. Everything. “We’ve got our anchor tenant. Contracts are getting signed this week.” It took David’s silky tongue and me faking reluctance while agreeing to bend on a few minor clauses, but it’s as good as done.

Kyle’s golden eyes twinkle with amusement. “I have no idea what that means.”

I pull away, slipping my hands into his. “Well, then come inside and let me teach you all about the thrilling world of real estate development.”

“What was all that with Mr. Maserati in the lobby?”

“He figured it out.”

“It?” His eyebrows rise. “You mean us?”

“Yeah. Apparently you stripped me with your eyes and I was oozing pheromones or something.”

“True. And . . .” He grins. “Definitely true.”

My cheeks flush. “What is with you guys? Honestly.”

The humor slides from his face. “So, what does this mean? Do I need to be putting in for a building transfer tonight? Am I going to be escorted out tomorrow?” He swallows, looking ready to say something else, but he doesn’t.

“I would never let that happen. And David was . . . okay about it.” Or at least tolerable. He listened and kept his insults to a minimum. “He promised he wouldn’t say anything. That was surprising, actually.”

“And you believe him?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t have a choice. If he thought you were just some guy I was screwing, there’s no way he would have kept quiet. But I’ve probably bought us a few weeks. Hoping, anyway.”

He nods slowly. “As long as you can control those pheromones of yours.”

I poke his side, earning his smirk.

“It feels like being at Wawa again, doesn’t it? Pretending not to be together all day long?”

“You’re right. And I didn’t like it then, either.” I fall into his body with a groan, marveling at how comfortable I am with Kyle, how easily I throw myself at him after just one night back in his arms, not caring if this needy, emotional version of me doesn’t match up with the hard-nosed version that just negotiated a multimillion-dollar rental deal over grilled salmon. “Come on, I’ve been waiting to get you upstairs all day.”

A soft curse slips through Kyle’s lips as we step through my front door.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, smoothing his hand over the small of my back. “Nothing. Just . . . this place is nice.”

I set my purse on the hallway desk and kick off my heels, sighing with relief as my bare feet hit the cool hardwood. “Make yourself at home. Seriously.”

“Is that you guys?” Ashley hollers, and I hear the twinge of excitement in her voice.

“Depends on which ‘you guys’ you mean,” I call back, smiling and slipping my hand into Kyle’s to lead him in.

Ashley is sitting cross-legged on the couch, with balls of pink and white yarn scattered beside her, a knitting needle in each hand. Her eyes widen at the sight of Kyle. “Oh my God!” Casting her blanket aside, she leaps up and runs for him, throwing herself into his arms. “I can’t believe it!”

Kyle is grinning as they embrace. It’s an entirely different response than he got from Christa. “Good to see you, too, Ash.”

She pulls away, smoothing her blouse over her hips. “This is crazy, isn’t it? Us, all together again like this?”

He cocks his head, peering down at her with genuine affection. “How have you been?”

She shrugs. “Single and looking for a job. You know . . . living the dream.” They share an awkward laugh. “Oh, hey, Piper, those chairs Marcelle picked out arrived today. Wait ’til you see them.” Her emerald eyes light up. “She’s so good.”

Ashley and my interior decorator have hit it off, exchanging dozens of emails a day. Somehow the scope has expanded to include the patio, as well as my home office and the empty sitting area in my bedroom.

Her gaze shifts back to Kyle. “Piper mentioned that you still talk to Eric, right?”

“Uh . . . yeah. ” Kyle nods, ducking his head. “It’s been a while, though.”

She slides her hands into her pockets. “Say hi to him for me, next time, will ya?”

“I will. For sure,” he promises, his eyes solemn. “Do you want him doing that?” He points to something behind us.

I follow Kyle’s gaze to the couch, where Elton is batting at the white ball of yarn that Ashley’s using.

“Hey! No! Don’t you do that!” she scolds, charging for the living room. Elton takes off, skittering across the floor with the yarn, dragging her blanket behind him. “Bad kitty!”

Kyle frowns at Elton as the cat races past us, having abandoned his toy. “What’s wrong with his tail?”

“Anxiety.”

His dark eyebrows rise. “Cats get anxiety?”

“This one does.” I slip my hand into his once again, intent on not letting go for the rest of the night. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

“And this is my bedroom.” The last room to show him in my condo, with the added surprise of two silver-blue wing chairs and a creamy shag rug now set next to the gas fireplace. Marcelle has exquisite taste.

Kyle hasn’t said much through the tour. Now he stops in the middle of the room, tossing his backpack as he takes it all in. His gaze drifts to the French doors. “Is that a different patio than the other one?”

“Yeah. But it’s just a small one.” I push my bedroom door closed.

“ ‘Just a small one,’ she says,” he murmurs, strolling over to the other set of doors. He flicks the light switch on. “This is your closet?” His gaze takes in the custom cabinetry and shoe racks.

I sidle up to him to settle my hand on his abdomen. “Yes.”

He smirks at our reflection in the bathroom’s vanity mirror across the way. “Your closet is bigger than my bedroom.”

“No, it isn’t,” I say, trying to brush it off, though we both know it is.

He looks down at me with odd reluctance in his gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just . . . I know this all feels normal for you. But it’s not normal for me.”

“It’s just a condo! Ashley and Christa are fine living here.”

“They’re not dating you. Or whatever we are.”

I feel a pinch in my chest. “Is this an ego thing? Because, honestly? I deal with fragile male egos all day long, so please don’t tell me you’ve developed one now, too. I’m tired of it.” My voice is escalating, but I can’t help it.

“No, you just don’t understand.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “So enlighten me, then.”

He sighs. “Do you remember those shitty little cabins at Wawa?”

“How could I forget. They were hot and stuffy . . .”

“Mine smelled like dirty socks and dead things.”

I laugh.

Kyle bites his lip. “Sometimes I wish we could go back for a night.”

I reach for his arm, dragging my fingers over the tattoo of the cliff, and us. “So do I.”

His jaw tenses. “I already knew you were way out of my league, but there, it felt like we were on an even playing field. Here . . .” His gaze skates over my bedroom again. “I can’t even afford standing-room-only with an obstructed view in this stadium.”

“But I told you, I don’t care about”—How do I word this delicately?—“our financial differences.”

“Yeah, but I do. Because people are going to think I’m with you for your money. That’s something my shitty father and brothers would do. But I’m not them and I don’t ever want you to think that. I don’t want your money, Piper. I hate myself for ever taking it from your father.”

“Is that what this is really about?”

He bows his head.

“You didn’t have a choice. My father threatened you.”

“Yeah, I did have a choice, Piper. My options might not have been ideal, but I had a choice. I could have cut you out of my life to get your father off my back but not taken the money. I chose to take it and I’m ashamed of that.” He frowns. “And I know that’s going to come up again and again.”

“No, it’s not.”

He gives me a flat look and I have to avert my gaze, because he’s not wrong. Christa condemned him for it. My mother’s opinion of him is low, in part because of the money. Even I chastised him for it, the day he told me.

“If my father offered you money now—”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“More money. Ten times as much—”

“No.”

“A hundred times—”

“No.” His voice is cold and hard, his jaw set with determination. “I’ll never take a dime from him, ever again.”

“So then, what are you worried about? What other people think of you?”

“No, I don’t give a shit what they think about me. But I’m worried about what the people who matter to you think.” Resignation fills his eyes.

“If they really care about me, they’ll accept you.” And as I say those words, I know them to be true.

He swallows, then nods, though he still seems unconvinced.

“Remember when I first got to Wawa? How out of place I was?”

“Yeah.” His gaze drifts over the length of my body. “You were the hot new girl.”

I begin unfastening the buttons of my emerald-green blouse, one by one. I tug the zipper on my pencil skirt and let it slide down and pool at my ankles so I can get to the rest of the buttons. Kyle watches with curious eyes but doesn’t make a move. Taking a step backward, I shed my blouse. “I was the girl whose mom drove her to Camp Wawa in a Porsche, and who didn’t know a single soul.” I reach up to unfasten the clasp to my bra and let it spring free.

Kyle’s eyes flare with heat.

“The girl who fell head over heels for a boy the first moment she laid eyes on him.” I keep backing up until my thighs hit my mattress. “And every time she caught his eye after that, every time he looked at her the way only he did, she felt like the luckiest girl in the world.”

Kyle’s gaze lifts to meet mine. “That’s because he knew he was the luckiest guy in the world for that one summer.”

“Money didn’t matter to them then.” I bite my lip, pushing my lace panties down over my hips, letting them fall to the floor. “Please don’t let it matter to them now.” I let vulnerability fill my voice, a sound that has become foreign to me in recent years, as I’ve learned to maintain the edge I need to become Piper Calloway.

Here, though, with Kyle, I don’t need to wear that armor.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, you’re right.” He stalks forward, taking my chin in his hands and kissing me deeply. “I just don’t know how to fix what I did.”

“Start by always choosing me—us—no matter what, from now on.” I tug at his T-shirt, a sly smile touching my lips. “Starting with right now.”