Page 102 of Torrid Passion
She graces me with a slicing look. “Go back to Bliss. Leave me alone.”
Not a chance, dumpling.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Had you waited—”
“Bliss! Magnus! Over here!” voices shout from below.
Kyla looks at me, confused.
I grin wide and we both glance down to the lobby where a group of photographers have gathered.
“Is the beauty queen dating the number one fitness model on Instagram?” a photographer asks.
“A lady never tells,” Bliss says.
“Is this your first time meeting?” someone else asks.
“It is,” Magnus confirms. “It was meant to be. Bliss and I have a real deep connection.”
They’ve only known each other a New York minute, but sure, deep it is.
“It’s like I was waiting my whole life to meet Magnus,” Bliss adds. “And we look soooooo good together,” she giggles.
“So fucking good,” Magnus agrees.
Kyla looks at me baffled before looking down again.
From up here, we can catch all the highlights of the circus playing below… including Magnus’s entourage of six. The only things missing are the popcorn and the remote. What a joke.
“Bliss, didn’t I see you walk the red carpet wrapped around Naughty Loki?” celebrity blogger Payne Meldrum asks. “Aren’t you two engaged or something?”
Fucker.
“No, no, no,” Bliss says. “I’m working with Jordana Berkshire at the moment. Her son was kind enough to accompany me, given what’s transpired with Philip Barnaby.” There’s a collective rumble in the crowd. “Lochlan Berkshire and I aren’t together. I just met him for the first time today.”
“So is it MagBliss or BlissMag?” Big Ass Glasses shouts.
I shift my attention to Kyla.
Surprise lights up her face. “You’re not dating Miss America?”
Unable to resist, I run a finger down her cheek. “Can we talk now?”
* * *
Going back to my place in Manhattan Beach at this time on a Thursday night would be a nightmare. A half-hour ride would take double the time. After calling a car to pick us up, I texted Mom and Dad to tell them I was going to hang out with Kyla. She did the same with her parents and brother. Then I texted Larkin. All the suites are fully booked—both at the Quintus Hotel and at Dark Compulsion. This event is spilling over to his establishments. You never know who’s a member. Luckily, Larkin had a few lounges available.
The trip from Building 22 is tense. Neither Kyla nor I say a word. There’s too much to talk about and frankly, I’d rather do it in privacy.
Since this wasn’t planned, I don’t have my member’s ring or keycard with me. Larkin made sure to give the green light to the bouncers and greeting community. With my hand against the small of her back, I guide Kyla to the private elevators.
“Wow. The security is much tighter than it was last week,” she observes as the elevator doors close behind us.
“This is a different building from the hotel. It’s Dark Compulsion––an entity all to itself.”
“What’s Dark Compulsion?”
For a brief moment, I’m tempted to water things down, but decide against it. After all, we’re here to clear the air between us. Not to mention, I’m not ashamed.
