Page 4 of First Comes Forever

“Shameful.”

“But not you,” she says, reaching into her clutch and pulling out her phone. “You’re a good guy, Adam. And for that? You deserve a night off too. So relax.” Spinning around so I can see, she deletes all the various photos she’s taken this evening. She holds up her hands in a show of surrender. “Tonight, I’ll just be a guest.”

I press my palms and fingers together in gratitude. “Thank you. Enjoy the party. The Dom Perignon is locked up in the silver fridge behind the bar.” Fishing in my pants pocket, I hand her a little key. “My treat.”

Tucking the key inside the cup of her bra, she rubs her hands together and flashes me a genuine smile. “All right,nowit’s a celebrity party. Dom for everyone.”

Jesus.“Have a nice time, Lily.”

With that crisis hopefully averted, I burst into the nearest guest bathroom, barely shutting the door behind me before I unzip. It’s only when I’m thoroughly relieved and washing my hands that I hear a voice behind the closed shower curtain.

“I have to say, it’s really refreshing to see a man wash his hands after peeing.”

My balls shrivel up as I immediately recognize her voice.Oh, this is agonizing.I’m put off by another woman accosting me, but unlike Lily, I’m pleasantly surprised that Amani Rhodes is here at Chase’s party.

I hoped. Not like this, obviously. But fuck, I hoped I’d get to meet her in person.

“Amani?”

She yanks the shower curtain back and I see she’s lying as flat as possible so her thighs and arms are pressed against the porcelain tub. She has the guest towel—which looks drenched—draped across her forehead. Her thick, auburn-red hair is twisted into a loose bun on top of her head. I could go on…

I’ve studied the girl on social media for endless hours.

Sue me.

She’s a goddess. Of course I’ve gone down the rabbit hole of Amani’s social media. I’ve made base camp on her Instagram profile with alerts for whenever she posts a new TikTok. My excuse is that I want to represent her as a manager. If she wanted to flip that switch, Amani would have a very lucrative career in film or modeling. I could get her endless jobs in a heartbeat—but so far, she’s ignored all my DMs.

“How’d you know it was me?” Her green eyes are sparkling with challenge under the bright overhead lighting.

“Because you can credit me with at least a couple thousand of your TikTok views. I recognized your voice.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Perv,” she mutters.

I shut off the faucet and shake off the excess water in the sink. The hand towel is on her forehead, so I have to settle for wiping the dampness on my jeans. “Excuse me,” I say, “you’re the one in here listening to me pee,perv.That’s an interesting kink, by the way. Good to know.” I shoot her a wink.

She tries to keep her lips pressed in a flat line, but she breaks. A small chuckle escapes her lips. “Sorry. In my defense, I would’ve said something, but it seemed like you were in a state of emergency. I thought I should let you pee in peace.”

I feel the red heat cool in my cheeks. Interesting… I didn’t expect it to be so easy to talk to her. “Why are you hiding in the bathroom at a party?”

Crossing my arms, I lean back on the bathroom counter and allow myself to soak up the view.Goddamn.She’s even prettier in person.

She’s obviously appealing—big green eyes, thick, red hair, and yes, her tits are the eighth world wonder. Even curled up in the bathtub, she looks flawless, with hair and makeup like she just walked off the red carpet. I’ll admit, I’m missing her freckles tonight… You can only see them when she’s not wearing makeup. Of all of Amani’s “looks,” it’s by far my favorite.Completely natural.

“I’m feeling a little sick.” She shrugs one shoulder.

My jaw ticks. “How long have you been here?” I ask, suddenly concerned when I notice that she’s visibly sweating and looks a little pale. “Did you leave your drink unattended? Did you feel sick after—”

“No,” she says and then exhales as she shakes her head. “No one slipped me anything. It’s nothing like that. I wanted to be a supportive friend for Noa so she didn’t have to come alone, but I probably should’ve stayed home. I’ve been feeling like this all day.” She presses her fingertips against her closed eyelids. “Actually, a while.”

“Feeling like what?”

“Like I’m on fire from the inside.” Pulling the towel off her head, she holds it out. “Would you mind?”

“Course not,” I reply, taking the towel and flipping on the faucet. “Cool or cold?”

“Freezing, please.”

Running the cold water over the towel, I wring it out so just cold dampness remains, then fold it neatly into a strip. Seizing the opportunity to show my chivalry, I ignore her outstretched hand and instead place the cool towel over her forehead. Pressing it gently into her skin, I ask, “Is that okay?”

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