Page 130

I move fast, yanking the black curtains shut, plunging the room into soft, safe shadows. I pull her into my chest and hold her tightly, stroking her hair.

“It’s okay, Ser. The windows are mirrored. They can’t see a thing. I swear.”

But her body’s trembling in my arms—not from desire this time, but from the shock of being watched.

“Jesus. Fucking vultures.”

Then —

BUZZZ.

The intercom rings.

Still holding her, I call out, “Yes?”

A familiar voice answers. Lazy. Dramatic.

“You wanna open the damn gate already?”

There’s a pause, then the voice continues, “We’re beautiful, I know, but the cameras don’t stop clicking and I didn’t sleep well last night, so unless I’m airbrushed on arrival, I’d like to not end up on a front page right now.”

We both burst out laughing—half from relief, half from sheer disbelief. Sierra shakes her head, pulling my T-shirt tighter around her.

I use the voice command. “Gate open.”

The lock beeps and I hear the electric hum of the gate sliding back.

“Elevator code’s the same,” I call out.

Then I turn to Sierra, already half-running toward the stairs.

“Wait—did he say ‘we’?” I ask, just now realizing the implication.

She throws a grin over her shoulder, disappearing up the stairs.

“Come on, Nick. You know exactly who’s with him.”

“Where are you going?” I call, confused.

She calls back, between giggles, “To change. Unless you want me answering the door like this in front of him.”

My eyes widen. “Jesus. Of course not,” I groan, flopping down on the couch, burying my face in my hands. But the grin tugging at my mouth doesn’t fade.

Sierra comes down the stairs just as the elevator doors slide open. She’s in a pair of black yoga pants and a thin white tank top, her hair loosely tied up. Effortless, radiant, and absolutely mine.

Theo and Thalia step out of the elevator like they own the place.

“You’re completely surrounded,” Theo announces casually, brushing a hand through his perfectly messy hair. “Ground level, air, probably the lake too. After last night’s little show and those Instagram posts today? Not shocked, honestly.”

“Fantastic,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

Sierra steps up next to me, shaking her head faintly and narrowing her eyes at them.

“Did you two show up together because you ran into each other at the gate? Or because you didn’t sleep so well together last night?” she asks sweetly, hands on her hips, one brow raised.

They both pause—for just a second too long—and glance at each other. Then, like synchronized chaos, they look back at us and answer in unison.

“Or.”