his excellent hair? Oh, or Dani, how did you know you were in love with Zaf and not just his excellent hair? Yes. That question. That’s my question. Danika, please respond.” Satisfied, she sent the message.
It took a moment for blue ticks and jumping dots to appear, but once they did, responses were fired in quick succession.
DANI: I didn’t know I was in love with Zaf, remember? You told me.
CHLOE: I find this question infinitely suspicious.
CHLOE: Who is Stockholm syndroming you?
Eve rolled her eyes and sent back, “No one. It was a theoretical comparison.”
DANI: Okay, but who are you in love with?
Eve hit Record, opened her mouth, then stopped when she realized she’d been about to say it. She’d been about to say, out loud, I’m in love with Jacob, and she would’ve meant it, too.
Which didn’t entirely obliterate Eve’s doubts—not when those doubts revolved around herself, around who she was and who she wanted to become, and how wide the gulf was between each state. But it certainly helped.
She found herself smiling again. I’m in love with Jacob. It sounded so good, so pure, so precious in her head. So she’d keep it in there for a little while longer, until she was confident enough to say it out loud.
“Were you talking to someone?” As if conjured by her thoughts, Jacob’s voice floated through the door a moment before he stepped inside.
Dripping wet.
In a towel.
“Good God in heaven,” Eve said, “you have to stop doing this.”
“Doing what?” he asked coolly. But there was a slight tilt to the corner of his mouth, a purposeful languor in his movements as he sauntered into the bedroom, raking a hand through his damp hair. He knew exactly what, so she didn’t bother spelling it out.
He was clearly terrible at drying himself off, because she could see tiny droplets of water glistening over his pale skin. It made him look like a delicious can of Coke on a sweltering day, sweating enticingly. The downy trail of blond hair arrowing toward his—well, frankly, toward his dick, had Eve’s heart pumping like a perky aerobics teacher’s biceps, and her clit aching like her head after a tequila hangover. Her mouth went dry. Possibly because all the moisture in her body had moved rapidly down to her pussy.
“Who were you talking to?” he asked softly.
“Hmm?” Eve attempted to scrape her sentiency up off the floor where she’d dropped it. “Oh. Erm, my sisters.”
He came closer, his eyes an electric storm. “That’s nice. Now put the phone down.”
Eve realized belatedly that she was still holding the Record button. “Yes, sir.” She let go, locked the phone, and stood up.
“You should come to my room,” he said.
She blinked. “Sex in a bed? You spoil me.”
“No, not sex in a bed. I mean—” His nostrils flared, even as his mouth curled into a self-deprecating smile. “Well, yes, actually. Sex in a bed. But I meant that you should sleep with me.” He caught her hand. “If you want. That’s what I meant.”
“Oh,” Eve said softly, and there was the love again, gliding through her veins, glowing and golden, turning everything in its path to mush. “Okay. Yes. Lovely. That’s what I want.”
Jacob grinned and tugged at her hand, dragging her swiftly out of this room and into his. She barely had time to process the change of location before he tumbled her onto the bed and climbed over her. Then her entire body was a vibrating nerve again, alive and exposed. He pressed close, his strong thigh sliding between hers with a sureness that made her gasp. Pressure, so much pressure, so insistent and demanding was her Jacob.
“Talk to me, Evie,” he murmured, and she realized she’d been holding her breath, and also—
And also, that the idea of talking right now didn’t worry her, the way it had with other men. She wasn’t nervous about saying the wrong thing, about getting on his nerves with her random trains of thought. She wasn’t focused on pretending to be perfectly fun instead of imperfectly strange. Because behind his scowls and his terrifyingly high standards, Jacob was steely enough to take everything she was and say, Actually, I think I’d like some more.
But she must have spent too long thinking, because after a moment, his expression faltered, and he made as if to lift his weight off her. “Sorry. Am I—? I know I can be a bit much, in these situations.”
She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back on top of