this?” he asks, his voice guarded.
“Trey.” I groan and seal my forehead against his bicep. “Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Be that guy, the jealous type. I have to work with him. We just established there's no way I can refuse to help them gather evidence on Kyle. To do that, I'll have to work alongside Sam.”
His silence tightens my gut with dread.
“Okay,” he says finally. “I don't like it though, Mess.”
“You don't trust him?” The mattress gives as I push up to my elbows to stare down at his handsome face. Stretching, I swipe the hair out of his eyes. “You need a haircut.”
Trey rolls his eyes and shakes his head, dislodging the remaining dark locks from his forehead. “I don't trust him with you.”
“But you have to trust me,” I plead. “Don't make this a big deal. Don't make it awkward or tense for me. Trust me. Can you do that?”
His honey brown eyes connect with my own. A sad smile tugs at the corners of his lips.
“Okay, Randi. I’ll keep it reined in. But if I think he's crossing a line, pushing outside the professional boundary, I'll say something.”
“Oh, you mean like you did during the campaign?” I say with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.
“Exactly my point,” he grits out through clenched teeth.
Well, shit. That backfired.
7
Randi
Steam billows out of the shower as I push the heavy glass door open. I tug a plush warm towel off the warming rack and wrap it around my flushed chest. The soft bathmat pushes between my damp toes as I step out of the shower and grab another towel for my legs. My hands pause, at the sound of hushed voices on the other side of the door, streams of water continuing to cascade down my thighs and over my knees.
Careful to keep my steps silent, I tiptoe across Trey's bathroom and lean close to the closed door, hoping for a hint to who's on the other side. Trey's annoyed grumble causes my lips to curl, but a soft female voice, in his bedroom with me on the other side of the door, drops them to a pursed-lip frown.
What the hell?
Ear to the door, I strain to get a better idea of who the voice belongs to, even though I have a sneaking suspicion I already know.
“We didn't agree to this,” says the familiar female voice.
“We didn't agree to anything.”
“We're engaged,” the female voice blurts. “How does this look? I will not be made a fool, Trey.”
Ah. Jessica.
Instead of hiding behind the door, spying on their conversation, I take a quick step back and tug it open. A flash of satisfaction passes through me at Jessica's shocked features as I move to Trey's side. Her wide eyes trail down my nearly naked body and back up again. Lips pursed, she shakes her head.
“You both know how bad this looks right?”
“And what does it look like, Jessica?” I sneer.
“That he's cheating on me with you. The vice president who he’s tasked to protect.”
Trey wraps an arm around my shoulders, sealing me against his side. “I never agreed to stop seeing Randi. I'm not sure what promises my mother made to you, but ending this between Randi and me was never in the agreement.”
Jessica's cheeks flame pink.
“You know how he feels about me,” I add. What happened to the “I want to be friends” conversation from last night? “What did you expect? Last night, you were all 'You have his heart. Let me borrow him.'”
“Borrow me?” Trey questions with an amused smirk. “Am I the man equivalent of Tupperware now?”
I snort and shake my head. “No way. You're more like a casserole dish. I'd never lend out good Tupperware.”
Jessica huffs and opens her mouth to cut us off, but Trey beats her to it.
“Am I at least a fancy casserole dish?”
“Of course,” I say with a smile.
“You two are not taking this seriously,” Jessica barks. Trey shoots me a wink before turning his attention back to her. “There’s a lot at stake.”
“For you or for me?” I ask. Stepping out of Trey's hold, I move to grab my jeans off the floor.
“Both. You need her support, and I need his. I told you this last night. I thought you were on my side.”
“Your side?” I sneer. Forgoing underwear, I tug the tight dark jeans up under the towel. “I think we both walked away from that conversation with different views of the context. I thought you saw my side of me trying to