Page 17 of Honey Sunshine

“Thank you,” I remark. I’m trying not to be overly conscious of his arm still draped casually around my shoulders, or the warmth fluttering in my stomach. “But... isn’t it a bit too much to add my name to your guest list?”

He pauses. “Was it? I don’t mind you coming by whenever.”

I try not to tense, wondering what that’s supposed to mean.

I tinker with the idea of asking, while trying to convince myself that he might be in the habit of inviting his business partners over sometimes so there’s nothing special about adding my name to the ever-growing guestlist.

The elevator comes to a stop at the top floor, the doors opening to a large hallway.

“Penthouse, hm?”

He chuckles at my surprise and gestures for me to follow him in.

The place is stylishly decorated with modern furniture, sleek finishes, and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The living room is spacious and elegantly furnished, with a cozy fireplace and a grand freakin’ piano taking center stage.

“I live... comfortably,” he settles on, and I snort so loudly I think I momentarily deafen myself.

“Yeah, that’s what someone with money would say,” I retort, looking around almost in a daze. “Jeez, I think you actually hit all the lists of what a perfect partner is! I don’t understand why someone like you isn’t taken.”

“I technically am now, aren’t I?” He beams, looking me dead in the eyes, and I don’t miss how my heart skips a beat.

I’m led through the expansive living area to a gourmet kitchen that could easily belong in a five-star restaurant. The marble countertops, top-of-the-line appliances, and sleek cabinetry make me feel like I’ve stepped into a culinary paradise.

Across from the kitchen is a dining area with a long, elegant table set for a dinner party, complete with sparkling china and crystal.

“I can see why you’re practically some sort of god when it comes to cooking. I mean... look at all this.” I gesture at the kitchen. I’m almost sure the appliances alone cost more than my entire year’s rent.

“It’s actually the reason why I bought this place out of all the properties I looked at,” he confesses and opens the fridge. “Do you want anything to drink? Soda? Sparkling water? Hard seltzer? Wine?”

“Just sparkling water is fine,” I respond, trying and failing to keep myself calm. It feels like I’m in a modern castle! This man has even finer tastes than I expected. I feel underdressed just standing here.

“Did you eat yet?” he asks while grabbing the beverage.

“No. I was planning to get takeout on the way home later.”

“What were you going to get?” he questions, as I follow him to the living room.

“Probably chicken lo mein from a Chinese place nearby, and some crab rangoons. It’s my favorite.”

He passes my drink and then plops down on the large leather sofa before patting the vacant spot next to him.

My toes curl as I sit next to him, with my back straighter than when I tried to hide my sexuality.

“You don’t have to be this nervous,” he prompts.

“It’s a little hard not to be when everything here costs more than my entire annual income,” I snicker, popping open the can and chugging down the water.

Harvey unexpectedly reaches for my hand, entwining his fingers with mine. Blood rushes south at the sudden gesture and I nearly drop the can from the shock of his touch. My mind spins, trying to make sense of what prompted this intimate contact.

Actually, is that his plan? Is he secretly planning to make me spill it on his expensive bougie rug?

No, maybe he’s trying to kiss me, and this is a test?

Unconsciously, I grip the can so hard it caves in, and a tiny amount of water does in fact spill onto my hand and then on the rug. Harvey doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he doesn’t seem to care.

I feel his thumb grazing my wrist.

“Nice watch. Is it new?”

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