His teeth nip at me before he draws back. “Let me help you bring your bag upstairs.”
I grin against his mouth. “You’ll be late for your meeting.”
His tongue flicks against my smile. “Fuck my meeting.”
“I’ll bring an overnight bag tonight.”
His eyes search mine, full of naked heat, a fire in their depths. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” One corner of my mouth curves up. “It’s the only way I’ll get any sleep.” Although my thoughts aren’t really preoccupied with the sleeping part of our arrangement.
A smile creases his face, taking my breath away again. I give him one last kiss and a cheeky grin. Then I’m out of the car, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
I walk up to the porch. “Hey, Blake.”
He lifts a disposable cup at me in a semblance of a wave. “Mindy is upstairs, still sleeping. We had a late night. I snuck out to get coffee and didn’t grab a key or my cell phone.” He chuckles. “I was trying to be sweet and got myself locked out.”
I step around him to the door, key in hand. “I hope you weren’t stuck out here too long.”
He shakes his head. “Only a few minutes.”
I unlock the door and then turn to him. “Here, let me help you carry something.”
I reach for the cup in his hand with the bag, but at the same time he pushes the other cup toward me. There’s a bit of uncomfortable fumbling, and I drop my keys. I bend over to pick them up while he holds the door with a foot. Laughing and awkward, we somehow manage to get inside.
“Did you have a nice weekend?” he asks.
“Yeah, it was great.”
I don’t know what else to say. I can hardly ask how his weekend was since we both know he spent it alone with Mindy in her apartment and they had the whole place to themselves and probably had so much wild monkey sex she’s not going into work for the first time in her life. I really don’t want to think about it.
The rest of the quiet elevator ride is worse than our clumsy scene on the porch. I have no idea what you’re supposed to say to your sister’s married lover. Once we’re back in the apartment, he disappears into Mindy’s bedroom with the coffees, and I make my way to the guest room. I need to shower and get ready for the day, not to mention pack a bag for tonight.
Eager excitement curls through me. I can’t wait to see Oliver again, even though I spent the entire weekend with him and literally just left his presence. In my room, I fling my bag down on the full-size bed and go to grab fresh clothes. A package on the antique oak dresser stops me in my tracks.
The printed label is addressed to me, and there’s no return address. My stomach sinks. Why would Mindy put this in here? She has to know who it’s from.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it was delivered by a client or a fan or my new business manager. Grabbing a pen, I hack through the tape enough to open the box and pull out a lacy light-pink piece of lingerie. Ugh. Gross.
A folded piece of paper rests at the bottom. I pick it up and read: For you and your new boyfriend.
Unease traces its ice-cold finger up my spine, my body flashing with the chill of apprehension. My phone chimes, and the tendrils of alarm expand into a fist of dread. It’s a text from an unknown number: Do you like your present? You could put it on right now, and I’ll come upstairs to see it.
My stomach churning, I race over to my window and nudge aside the curtain to peer down at the street. A couple walks down the sidewalk hand in hand. A jogger runs in the opposite direction, her blond ponytail bobbing. A white sedan cruises down the street.
He’s not here. He’s just messing with me. He wants me to be afraid.
I can’t let him win.