Page 36 of Falling for Them

“Carter.” The warning in my voice made things very clear, yet he didn’t care.

“I think she’d really like to see my warehouse. A nice candlelit dinner on the roof with the skyline should really set the mood.” He drank a big gulp of coffee before sitting back in his seat, looking smug as fuck.

My jaw clenched.

“Now is the time for me to make my move, before time runs out.” He reached into his bag and pulled out his tablet. “It’s only a matter of time until the fae prince claims his princess.”

He handed it to me, and right there on the lockscreen was a picture of Libby and Ethan from the ribbon-cutting ceremony. It served as a reminder of how fucked up it had been for me to make any kind of move on her when her best friend looked ather like she was his entire world and he wanted to eat her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

I couldn’t be certain, but I was sure he’d come back from the gym and heard us going at it, if his sudden headache and locking himself in his room was any indication.

Unfortunately, now that I’d spent more time with Libby and tasted her sweet lips—among other things—I only wanted her more.

I stared at the picture longer than necessary. Seeing them together sent a pang of longing through my chest. “It’ll never happen.”

“Sure it will, especially since they are living together now.” Carter stood, moved around my desk, and swiped open his photo album.

“They sleep in the same bed all the time and nothing has happened.”

“Oh, really? This picture right here says they’ve done more than innocently share a bed.” He pointed to a shot of Ethan touching Libby’s cheek.

“It doesn’t matter.” I handed the tablet back, unable to look at any more photos. “I have work to do.”

Carter glanced at my screen. “Dude, you pay someone to monitor that for you.”

“I know that.” I minimized the browser, embarrassed to be caught. “It might still get missed.”

My worst nightmare was waking up one morning and finding my dirty laundry plastered all over the internet. On slow news days, the paparazzi and gossip columnists were sharks waiting for any bloody morsel to latch onto.

“I still think the wiser choice would have been to go to the police or FBI instead of giving them what they wanted.”

“Hi.” Libby’s voice from the doorway made my heart nearly stop, and not just because it was her, but because… how much of that conversation had she heard?

I straightened in my chair, trying to regain my composure, even though the red dress she was wearing made it hard to form words.

She looked between us. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all. Carter was on his way out.”

Carter, ever the troublemaker, squeezed my shoulder. “I was showing him the amazing photos from the event this weekend. Would you like to see them?”

“Uh... Maybe later?” Libby looked uncertain, and I felt a surge of protectiveness.

“Perfect! I can show you at lunch if you want to grab a bite to eat?” Carter offered smoothly.

I shrugged off his hand and stood, shooting him a glare. “You’re fired.”

“On what grounds?”

“You’re a pain in the ass.” I grabbed my iced coffee and rounded the desk, focusing on Libby. “Let me show you to your office and give you a tour.”

“I’ll see you at lunch, Libby,” Carter called out as we walked out.

I clenched my jaw, leading Libby down the short hallway to her office. “How are you today?” Might as well have asked her how she felt about the weather.

I went to put my hand on the small of her back and she entered in front of me. I pulled my hand away like I’d touched a hot stove.

“I’m good…” She didn’t sound so sure. “What were you talking about the FBI for?”

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