10. Evan
Evan
Tania is eating pancakes at the kitchen counter when Sandra walks in with clean kitchen towels.
I’m standing close to her. My hand on the small of her back.
Sandra smiles at us as if the affection I’m giving Tania is normal. “I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Sandra.”
The second she’s gone, I spin Tania around and kiss her.
Her hands fist in my shirt, and she moans into my mouth, making my dick go rock hard.
We’ve been doing this for about a week now, since the morning after she went to that museum gala with Silas.
Stealing moments and kissing when nobody else is around.
Footsteps. We break apart. Just barely.
Callum rounds the corner. He stops and takes in the scene in front of him. She’s flushed, and I’m breathing hard.
Tania takes another bite of her pancakes, acting like nothing just happened. But by the way her eyes dart to Callum and back to me, the truth is obvious. I smile and let her believe she’s hiding it well.
He grins and crosses to where Tania’s plate sits. She’s got syrup on her bottom lip.
I was about to lick it off.
Callum gets there first. His thumb catches the corner of her mouth. He brings his thumb to his own mouth and licks it clean.
“Maple syrup.” His eyes lock on hers, and then he meets my eyes. “She tastes sweet.”
Tania goes completely still.
“Asshole.” But I’m grinning when I say it. He knows exactly what he walked in on.
Tania throws a wadded napkin at him. He catches it one-handed, laughing, and heads toward the gym with his coffee.
Tania’s leaning against the counter, face red, breath uneven.
I watch my brother go. Callum’s been doing this all week, flirting with her right in front of me.
And I don’t hate it. I thought I would. I thought I’d want to keep her to myself now that I’m not hiding that I’m attracted to her.
But watching her get flustered? Watching Callum flirt with her while I’m three feet away? It doesn’t bother me at all.
She’s been different since the museum gala. That night, she came home and went straight to her room without saying goodnight. The next morning, she was in the kitchen early, and when I kissed her cheek—casual, the way I always do when Sandra’s around—she turned her head.
And she kissed me. Just as intensely as she did the night that I took her to the karaoke bar.
Since then, she’s been the one initiating. Finding me in hallways. Pulling me into empty rooms and kissing me like she’s trying to prove something.
I haven’t asked why. But something must have happened at the gala.
Silas came back from the gala upset. The next day, he cornered Callum and me separately, with the same speech directed at both of us.
This arrangement is business. Tania is temporary. We can be friends with Tania. Nothing more.
Whatever happened that night changed the way she interacts with me, and I’m not complaining. I should ask her about it and make sure this isn’t just her rebounding off Silas’s rejection.
But I don’t. Because having her choose me—even if it’s because someone else pushed her away—still feels like winning.
And I hate that I’m okay with that.
Tuesday arrives, and Ben texts that he’s coming for dinner.
I’m in the kitchen when Silas walks through, already on his phone.
He ends the call and pockets it. “Ben is coming tonight.”
“I know. He texted me, too.”
Silas leans against the counter. “He’s perceptive.”
That is my brother’s way of giving me a warning. Maybe Tania and I aren’t being as secretive as I thought. Callum knows. And it seems like Silas also knows.
“Silas.” I set down my water. “Things with Tania are moving in a... different direction.”
His expression hardens. “Different how?”
“More than friends. I—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He cuts me off. “Whatever’s happening, keep it away from Ben tonight. Don’t give him a reason to ask questions.”
He walks back to his office without waiting for a response.
I spend the rest of the afternoon hyper-aware of every interaction with Tania.
Ben shows up at six sharp. Sandra lets him in, and he hugs Tania first.
“Hey, you.” He squeezes her shoulders and then pulls back. “Is that Evan’s hoodie?”
She glances down at the oversized black hoodie that definitely belongs to me. “Maybe.”
“You stealing clothes now?”
She shrugs. “It’s comfortable.”
I grin from across the room. “She’s basically moved into my closet.”
Ben shakes his head, but he’s smiling.
“I’m getting wine.” Tania heads to the kitchen. “You want some?”
Ben smiles at his sister. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Callum emerges from the gym, hair still damp from the shower. “Ben. You’re early.”
“I’m exactly on time.”
“Same thing.” Callum grabs a beer from the fridge and drops into a chair at the dining table.
Silas appears last, already out of his suit jacket, tie loosened. He actually looks relaxed, which is rare enough that Ben comments on it.
“You taking a night off?”
“Trying to.” Silas sits and accepts the wine Tania hands him.
Dinner is the chef’s roasted chicken with vegetables. We pass dishes, fill plates, and fall into easy conversation.
Ben tells us about work, Tania talks about a new exhibition, and Callum interrupts with questions.
Silas refills Tania’s wine before she even reaches for it. I pass her the bread basket before she asks. Callum steals a roasted potato off her plate. She pretends to stab his hand with her fork. He grins and does it again. She threatens to stab him for real next time. He laughs and actually stops.
Small things. Things couples tend to do.
Ben is watching. I see it in my peripheral vision. His eyes track the interactions and catalog every small gesture.
He leans back in his chair, wine glass in hand. “You guys are all so… domestic.”
Tania looks up. “Domestic?”
“I don’t know. Comfortable.” He waves a hand dismissively. “Like you’ve been doing this for years, not nearly two months.”
Callum grins. “She’s easy to live with, unlike you in college. Remember that night on the yacht when you—”
“We agreed never to talk about that,” Ben cuts him off.
Callum chuckles and takes a drink of his beer.
But Ben’s still watching. I feel his attention shift from Callum to me. To Silas. Back to Tania.
Noticing things.
Like how she’s sitting between Callum and me. How Silas’s hand rests on the back of her chair when he walks past to get more wine. How she teases Callum without hesitation.
I’m trying to be careful with every movement, but Ben’s watching closely, and I don’t know what he sees.
We clear the plates together. Tania and I end up at the sink while Ben sits at the counter.
“If I walked in right now, not knowing about the arrangement?” He shakes his head. “I’d buy it completely.”
The kitchen goes quiet. Tania’s hands are still in the soapy water.
I force a laugh and make it sound natural. “That’s kind of the point, man.”
“Right.” He takes a drink. “Don’t forget it is an arrangement,” he continues, lighter now, like he’s joking. But there’s an edge underneath. “You’re supposed to be convincing other people, not yourselves.”
Tania rinses a plate, her focus firmly on the sink.
Every muscle in my body tightens. I thought I was being careful. I guess not.
Silas smoothly changes the conversation, asking Ben about a deal he’s working on—some real estate thing in Brooklyn. Ben tells us about the deal enthusiastically, and the tension eases before we all move to the living room.
But the words stay with me. You’re supposed to be convincing other people, not yourselves.
Of course I feel guilty, and I should feel worse about this than I do. But nobody’s cheating. We’re both consenting adults. And I haven’t fucked her.
Ben leaves around nine. He hugs Tania one more time and heads for the elevator. The door closes, and the penthouse goes quiet.
Callum and Silas both head to their rooms. And I’m alone with Tania.
I take her hand. “Come on. We’re going swimming.”
I don’t hide my grin when she follows.
Steam rises from the heated water, curling into the cool fall air. City lights spread out below us, like thousands of tiny stars.
We keep spare suits up here. She changes in the cabana while I strip down and change in the chilly mid-November air.
The water’s almost hot when I dive in. I surface, shake water from my hair, and watch her emerge from the cabana.
She’s wearing a black one-piece that’s cut high on the legs.
Fuck.
She dives in and surfaces next to me. “Race you to the other side.”
“You’ll lose.”
“Not likely.” She takes off.
I follow. She’s fast, but I’m faster. I catch her at the wall and pin her there with my body.
“Told you.”
She’s breathing hard, laughing. “You cheated.”
“How?”
“You’re taller. Longer reach.”
“That’s not cheating. That’s genetics.” I bracket her against the wall with my arms. “Admit I won.”
“Never.”
Her legs wrap around my waist. And then we’re not laughing anymore.
I kiss her. Hard. Her mouth opens, my hands slide down her sides, and I grip her hips. She rolls against me, and I groan into her mouth.
This. This is what’s been building all week. Every stolen kiss. Every touch when no one’s looking.
My fingers find the strap of her suit, and I slide it down her shoulder, then the other. I peel the top down. Her breasts are bare now, slick with water and steam.
I cup one of her breasts, circling her nipple until it hardens, and she arches into my touch.
“Oh, Evan, that feels really good.”
I do it again.
Her hands are in my hair now, pulling and desperate. I slide one hand lower, between her legs and over the fabric of her suit. She’s already worked up.
“Let’s go inside.” I barely get the words out.
We climb out and grab towels. She’s laughing as we run through the rooftop door and down the hallway toward my room.
Water drips behind us, but I don’t care. I barely get the door closed before I’m on her.
Towels drop. We’re in our wetsuits, dripping on the hardwood floor.
I back her toward the bathroom and hit the shower controls. Water streams from multiple heads, already heating.