Page 59 of Puck Yes

Except I suppose I do know his actions and his words. Pretty sure he wantsmore. Maybe he even thinks we’reinvolved?

What doesmoremean though? For him, for me, for my job, and for…the three people in bed? We still work together. I don’t want to lose my job or my focus on rebuilding my career.

We kiss for a few more seconds till he pulls back with some reluctance.

He drops a kiss to my nose. “I should go. I have to make a few calls before this breakfast thing, and you have the annulment. But we should—” He cuts himself off when he looks to Hayes, then winces. “I should go.”

I swear he was going to ask to see me again. And I want to say yes.

But I don’t know how this works. Any of this. Instead, I let him go with a soft smile and athanks for last night.

When he’s gone, I head to my suitcase and tug on a long T-shirt, staring at the gold band on my finger, then checking out the matching one on the man still in bed. They look so surreal. Both will be gone in an hour, and only last night’s crew, an Elvis impersonator, and a showgirl will be the wiser. Yesterday, I felt surprisingly empowered sayingI do. I wasn’t the yes-woman I’d been to Simone for the last year. I wasyes-womaningmyself. I said goodbye to the person who wanted to please a boss who never truly cared about her. Let go of the woman who wanted to spend time with a guy who never truly saw who she was or bothered looking. I embraced the woman, the new me, who felt empowered enough to ask for two men in bed.

That daring night was like a fabulous outfit that makes a statement.

But like all good outfits, you can hang it up and tuck it into the closet once you take it off. As I grab some fresh clothes for today, Hayes stirs at last. Blinks his eyes. Scrubs a hand over his scruffy jaw. Meets my gaze. “Hey.”

His voice is froggy.

“You’re a heavy sleeper.”

With a smile, he scratches his head. “Yeah, I am. Were you guys up for a while?”

“Just chatting,” I say.

He hums. “That sounds nice.”

There’s no jealousy from him, and it’s so fascinating. I don’t know what to make of it. But I knowthis. Last night is over, and daylight has come.

He pushes up on his elbows and checks the time. “I should get ready for our…” He doesn’t seem to want to say it.

“Annulment,” I supply, just so he doesn’t forget we have an appointment.

He winces like Stefan did before he left. Like this pains him. I feel off as well. But what, exactly, is making me sad? Is it the marriage ending? Or is it the ending of the unexpected connection forged between the three of us after dark?

I have no answers. I hunt for a pair of jeans. Hayes is laser focused as he picks up his discarded clothes. He tugs on his jeans and T-shirt, smooths a hand down his chest, and blows out a breath. That feels final too. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes. Is that enough time?”

“I’ll be ready in twenty,” I say, resolute. I refuse to be someone who hangs on too long.

With a crisp nod, he leaves, and, missing my two men, I prepare for the end of my eight-hour marriage.

21

UNTYING THE KNOT

Hayes

I run a towel over my hair one more time, Outrageous Record blasting in my earbuds. Top volume drowns out the racing thoughts of what I have to do this morning, and now these text messages from my father.

Dad: Great goal last night! Cora said she was thrilled for you too. You’re on your game with the Avengers.

I’m in a terse kind of mood so I reply with a quick thanks. Don’t want to jinx myself by saying how much I like playing on this team. But I don’t have to since he moves on right away with another message.

Dad: P.S. I’m considering asking her to marry me! What do you think?

My jaw tightens as I set down the phone, unsure what to say other thandude, she’s thirty. Not like I’m going to sayHey, I got hitched too.Isn’t that cool?

As I grab the toothbrush, I try to come up with a reply that’s somewhat genuine when a new text pops up. It’s from Dev and it’s short.Here you go. Keep it safe.

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