Page 54 of This

“Thirty years’ worth of investment history the old man expects me to know by Monday at eleven. But”—his eyes drift down from my face to the desk—“I could spare some time to knock out one or three of the fantasies I’ve had about you being in my office.”

I laugh, but it chokes off when the door flies open. I leap off Dane’s lap, more in shock than anything else, as his dad charges in, red-faced and finger pointed at his son.

“You took on Willis?” he shouts, a vein in his neck bulging. He’s far from the cool, collected man I met at the engagement dinner. “You ungrateful—” Greg cuts off, noticing me for the first time. His furious gaze burns over me before flicking back to Dane.

Unaffected by the glare, Dane eases out of the chair. “You remember Bennett.” He snakes an arm around my waist, tugging me against him. “From Liam’s engagement party.”

Greg adjusts the cuff of his suit coat and unclenches his jaw enough to say, “Of course. How are you, lovely?”

Dane curls his fingers into my side at the pet name. “Bennett,” he repeats.

Greg forces a smile, his eyes still locked in a standoff with his son’s. “Yes, right. Bennett,lovely”—he refocuses on me, all the charm from the first time returned—“would you mind giving me a minute alone with my son?”

It’s not a real question, a command in sheep’s clothing.

The hold on me tightens. Dane exhales slowly before he looks down at me. “I’ll meet you at the house later?”

More than ready to slink away from the family drama, I nod.

He grabs his keys off the desk and unhooks one. “Here,” he says, closing my fist around the key. His fingers slide under my chin, tipping it up so that I look at him. “There’s a bottle of red waiting for you.”

“Luring me with wine again,” I say.

He smirks and, ignoring the set of eyes on us, brushes his lips over mine. “It has yet to let me down.”

As I back up, I smile at him and keep the expression held when I turn to his dad. “Nice to see you, Mr. Masters.”

“A pleasure,” he says, his head following me as I pass to the door.

I think of his wife. How, right now, Aubrey would be clutching his arm or chest in a desperate attempt to either scare me away or remind him that she existed.

The second the door latches behind me, Greg’s voice booms from the other side. Walking to the office next door, I decide to save the wine for Dane. It sounds like he’s going to need it. Half the bottle anyway.

Ifall asleep on thecouch around midnight. The last message Dane sent said he was leaving the office, but after twenty minutes, I stretched out, and the cushions sucked me in. When I open my eyes, I’m in his bed. A border of light surrounds the curtains, illuminating the room enough to tell me I’m alone.

My face rolls onto something smooth, bright pink, and stuck on the pillow. A mini-mem but with small, blocky letters instead of Keaton’s usual frill. I yawn, reading it.

Stole these from Liam’s the morning you left. Keaton had a drawerful, so I doubt she noticed.

I laugh and see another stuck on the book on his nightstand. It’s different each time I’m here, always a slip of paper sticking out as a bookmark. I peel the note from the cover and turn the lamp on to better see.

You weren’t supposed to have been someone I couldn’t stop thinking about, but you were. Page 208.

Flipping the book to the marked page, I find a different sticky note. One with my handwriting—Two messages.He kept it. Even more, he keeps it close to him. Keeps me close.

My message is stuck to his bookmark, so I lift it to see the white paper underneath and find more writing but not mine or Dane’s.

Go, go, go.

Fly, fly, fly.

Then come home.

She signed itMomwith twoXs. I swallow back the lump in my throat and tuck our messages to him back in the book. When I crawl out of bed, I notice my next mini-mem, waiting on the bathroom door.

Smiling when I replayed your laugh in my head, wanting to stare into your eyes again, I was hopeless.

And when I close it, I see another.

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