Chapter 23 #2
The sound that rumbles out of me is a growl of frustration. I step back and swipe a hand down my face, trying to rein myself back in. My body wants more—so much more—but I know the wall is back up.
“You can stay,” Mya says, voice softer now, though resolute. “Help me eat the food. But no more kissing. Or touching. Promise me, Worth.”
Every muscle in me resists. The thought of keeping my hands off her when she’s sitting there in barely-there silk borders on torture. But I’d rather have her like this, than not at all. If this is the only way she’ll let me near, then I’ll take it.
“Fine,” I grit out, forcing myself to relent.
I drop onto the edge of her bed, while she spins her desk chair to face me.
“We need to talk.”
My head tilts, interest sparked. “I’m listening.”
Mya takes a steadying breath. “I know that I’ve technically accepted this,” she gestures her hands between us, “arrangement. But I have a few conditions.”
“Okay.”
“You pay off my school loans and the rest of my debts. If I’m agreeing to upend my life, I won’t do it while drowning in bills.”
I don’t even flinch. I expected that, so I just give her a curt nod.
“I’ll move in,” she continues, “but I want my own room. My space. That’s non-negotiable.”
“Sure.” I ignore the disappointment flaring in my chest.
“And I want to meet Brianna a few times before we tell her anything. No surprises. No blindsiding her by suddenly appearing in her life as her dad’s new girlfriend.” Mya’s voice wavers slightly, but she holds my gaze. “She deserves better than that.”
I study her in silence, and she presses on.
“Finally, I get to tell people at work before it hits the tabloids. I won’t have my colleagues—or anyone else—thinking I slept my way into this job. Or your fortune.”
My jaw works as I nod.
“Agreed. You'll be able to meet Brianna a few times. I don’t want to upend her life any more than necessary.”
I push off the bed and straighten to my full height. “But if we’re doing this, Mya… we’re doing it my way too.”
She looks up at me, waiting.
“You’ll be expected to attend every public appearance with me,” I say, steady as stone. “Fundraisers, galas, charity dinners, board events—if my presence is required, so is yours. Unless you’re sick or there’s an emergency, I won’t accept excuses. We have to look seamless.”
“I’ll agree to separate rooms,” I continue, and Mya sags in relief—until the other shoe drops. “But Brianna can’t see that. She can’t think we sleep apart. We’ll tell her you’re using the other room as a closet. Clothes. Shoes. Whatever story works.”
Even though Mya initially refused my proposal, I’d already thought this through in excruciating detail to make sure none of it affected Brianna. But I can’t tell if that’s reassuring or terrifying Mya.
“And finally, I’ll have a prenup drawn up. It will state clearly that I’ll cover your school loans and any debt you’ve accumulated up until the marriage. But anything you rack up after is on you. I don’t want to be responsible for any reckless spending.”
Mya crosses her arms. “Wow. You really know how to romance a girl, Mr. Miller. I’m surprised you didn’t have Dre draw up a PowerPoint presentation.”
I smile, amused by Mya’s annoyance.
“When the whole fiasco with my ex-wife is over, we’ll annul the marriage quietly and go our separate ways.”
Mya nods; my heart lurches in my chest, and I can’t for the life of me explain why. This is just an attraction.
“Okay, agreed. Though I have one more condition,” she adds. “In public, I’ll play the part. I’ll hold your hand, kiss you, if it sells the illusion. But behind closed doors, we’re back to being just colleagues—friends. No touching. No kissing. No sex. ”
My jaw ticks, the muscle pulsing, but I don’t let my expression crack. “Fine.”
“Then it’s a deal.”
Mya extends her hand. I look at it for a long moment, before finally wrapping my palm around hers. The heat of her skin sears me instantly, sending a shock wave up my arm.
Damn this effect she has on me.
The next few months are going to be brutal.
We settle down, quietly, a tray cart overflowing with enough food for ten people between us. We dig in, and slowly, conversation replaces the silence.
She tells me about her family—her mom, stepdad, siblings.
Her eyes light up when she talks about Tiana, her step-sister, and the chaos they grew up in together.
When Mya mentions her little brother, her smile softens, and I can already see how protective she is of him.
She admits she’s a die-hard Cowboys fan, courtesy of her late father, and there’s a flash of pain there that she quickly hides with practiced ease.
Then she drops something else, almost shyly. “I’ve always had this thing for old vinyl records. I’ve been slowly building a collection, when I can afford it. There’s just something about the sound, you know? Imperfect but real.”
When it’s my turn, I tell her about Brianna—her quirks, sass, the way she’s grown into her own too fast for my liking.
I talk about Henson and how we built W.H.M.
from nothing, and about Griffin, who’s been with us since day one.
Mya listens intently, as if she’s genuinely interested, and it disarms me more than I want to admit.
The conversation is easy, almost too easy. I laugh more than I should. She teases me, rolls her eyes, calls me out when I dodge a question. For a while, it feels like we’re not CEO and employee, just two people eating takeout in a hotel room.
And it’s… nice.
But beneath it, a dangerous truth hums: my attraction to her isn’t just physical. It’s in the way she looks at me, the way she listens, the way her laugh pulls me apart and puts me back together again.
And that terrifies me.
Because I can’t allow myself the luxury of falling for someone. Not when my company is scaling faster than ever. Not when Brianna is a teenager who needs every ounce of me. Even more now with Vanessa trying to claw her way back into our lives.
So I shove it down, drowning the thought. But no matter how hard I try, Mya lingers like a fingerprint I can’t scrub off.