Page 7 of Good Girl

A slimy feeling unfurls inside of me at the thought. If he knew how much money I could make from the app, I’m sure he would find a way to monetize it to support his issues. And I would let him because he was there for me in the exact moment that I needed him. He saved me.

But not anymore. I’m distancing myself from all of that.

Fresh start.

I’m getting out. I’m getting my degree. I’ll get my CPA. I’ll get my steady, stable accounting job. I’ll buy my own little house with a little fence and a little garden, get a little white cat, and everything will be easy.

Last night and this weekend are just going to make achieving my goals that much easier, because now, I won’t need a part-time job to subsidize my student loans.

Turning, I look at the building in front of me, slowly tilting my head to take in the sheer size of the thing. Tall, white, with the vast majority of the windows darkened. Not many other detailsare available, except for the golden glow of lighting around the front door and the obvious fact it was built in the last decade.

Inhaling so deeply that I’m worried about the seams of the dress I’m wearing, I stride forward in my borrowed ballet flats, dragging my borrowed bag filled with its borrowed clothing.

The rhythmicthunkof the wheels hitting the cracks in the pavement helps keep my heart calm as the glass sliding doors loom ever larger. I maneuver up and over the little ramp beneath the overhang and pause in front of the doors.

They don’twhooshopen.

Maybe the little camera thing didn’t register me?

I take a couple of steps back and then approach again.

Same result.

I glance around the doorway, awkwardness crawling up my neck as I try to figure out how to deal with this. Surely, they wouldn’t have given me the wrong address?

Just as I spot a security panel to the left that has a security call button, movement on the other side of the door catches my attention.

Angel—no, wait. Darcy.

He’s in the same button-up and suit combo he wore at the hotel tonight, not that I really took much notice earlier. But now I do.

Not-quite-black, unbuttoned suit jacket to show the white-with-black-pinstripe shirt, black jeans, and sneakers. For an old guy, he’s actually pretty trendy. It helps that he is hot as fuck, in a pirate kind of way. His long brown hair is once again pulled back into a bun, which just makes me want to mess it up. Thin lips framed by a dark brown beard smirk back at me. I can easily see him leaning against afuck offexpensive car, aviators covering his eyes while a camera clicks in his face.

I finally force my gaze back up to his face. His dark blue eyes twinkle, and there is a smirk on his lips as he stops close to a similar security panel to the one on my side of the door.

Embarrassment wants to pour itself down my body at having been caught checking him out, but I refuse to let it. I’m not a blushing wallflower, like some of my favorite romance novel characters. No, I’m more like a badass FMC in a romantasy. Kick-ass and take charge.

Darcy holds a sleek black card up to the security panel. A second later, the glass doors open and cool air-conditioned air kisses my skin.

He stands there, watching me, and the awkwardness returns.

“Hey,” I say as I break eye contact, dropping my attention to his mouth.

The smirk stretches across his lips and converts to a grin. “Come here, princess.”

My heart stumbles over a beat at the use of the nickname he gave me earlier tonight. Darcy holds out a hand, and I have to breach the entryway to slip my hand into his. As soon as his fingers close over mine, he applies gentle pressure, drawing me in until our bodies are pressed together and he is able to wrap his other arm around my waist.

Our height difference is very noticeable, with me in flats, and I have to tilt my head almost all the way back to look up at him. His shoulders relax as I place my hand against his chest and hold on to the fabric, praying he can’t feel how fast my heart is beating.

Darcy’s stare is intense. I have no idea what he is looking for, so I stare back and hope he finds it. Slowly, his smile returns, then he glances down at my lips.

Oh, I know that signal.

Raising my chin, I offer my lips to him, and he immediately lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss is slow, nothing but themoving of our lips, like he is savoring this almost-PG moment with me, and I am totally here for it.

He breaks the kiss after only a few seconds, and it’s only then that I realize my eyelids have fluttered shut. I open them, and he reaches up to brush a few strands of hair behind my ear. The act is so unexpected, but so completely welcome. I can’t really think of the last time someone touched me like that, with nothing but care.

“Thank you for accepting the second invitation,” he says softly, a direct contrast to the intensity in his gaze. Like he wants to devour me right here in the doorway of his building.

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