Chapter 24
I barely recognized myself in the mirror before I left my apartment. My silver dress skimmed my body like liquid moonlight, twinkling in the light with each bead. It was floor-length and open down the entire back, showing off the tattoo that ran from the back of my neck to my ass.
It was the most feminine thing I’d ever worn, all soft lines and delicate vulnerability.
My hair was sculpted into finger waves, dark and glossy, framing my face in a way that felt almost old-Hollywood and dangerous.
To top it off, a white fur shawl rested over my arms, light as snow, absurd and perfect.
I didn’t do delicate.
I didn’t do ornamental.
Tonight, though, I did both.
Goldie’s porch light glowed warm against the night as I climbed the steps and knocked. My heart was pounding harder than it ever had before, even during an intense fire call. Somehow, this felt riskier.
More dangerous.
Then the door opened.
Tanner stood there in a black suit with a charcoal shirt unbuttoned at the throat, no tie, and no apology for it. In one hand he held a rocks glass, a warm amber liquid chilling the crystal as he slid his other one into his pants pocket. He was the picture of masculinity.
The clean-cut cop was gone.
In his place was someone darker. Something sharper in his eyes. A man who knew exactly how much space he took up in a room.
And how his presence made a woman melt.
For half a second, neither of us spoke. His eyes swept over me slowly, intentionally.
“Well,” I said, arching a brow and steeling my spine because silence with Tanner Brooks, tonight of all nights, was dangerous. “Looks like you cheated and showed up early.”
His mouth curved into a lazy smirk that sent heat straight through me.
“Hard to be early,” he said evenly, “when I haven’t left since I got here last night.”
I snorted before I could stop myself, then shook my head and stepped over the threshold. “Asshole.”
“Guilty,” he replied, closing the door behind me.
He walked over to the sideboard in the dining room and poured a second glass of liquor, holding it out for me without asking if I wanted one. He knew.
We stood there, the space between us crackling as neither of us pretended not to look. The suit fit him too well. And the way he held himself tonight was too different for me to ignore.
His eyes silently tracked me as I lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip, leaving a red stain on the rim that held his attention.
“You’re breathtaking,” he said, his voice a mere whisper of honesty, breaking through the quiet like a gunshot.
The sincerity of his voice caught me off guard. I glanced away, suddenly aware of every exposed inch of skin bare to his eyes. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made me want him to look.
But compliments were not my strong suit.
“Thanks,” I muttered, taking a deep breath and another sip of liquid courage.
“I mean it,” he added. Then, firmer, “I’m attracted to you, Rhea.”
My breath caught, and I glanced at the stairs leading to Goldie’s bedroom, as if at any moment she’d appear and catch us being…
Improper?
Inappropriate?
Damn, this wasn’t that.
“I know Goldie’s talked to you,” he continued, steady and careful. “She’s been clear to me and you that she’s not just okay with this, but that she wants it. Encourages it.”
My nerves flared, doubt curling in my chest as I stared down into my glass, suddenly unsure of my footing and place in the conversation.
He stepped closer, and then his warm fingers gently tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his dominant stare. In any other situation, I would have fought him for that power, for my position. But right now, in this moment, I let him take the lead.
“I can tell you’ve been hurt before,” he said.
“And I won’t lie and tell you without a doubt that this will work if we try.
But I can promise you that I won’t intentionally do anything to harm you, Rhea.
This isn’t something I’m just trying on for size to then get bored with.
This isn’t that. It’s real. It’s authentic. ”
His touch was warm and respectful, grounding even as his fingers lingered on my skin.
“I won’t break you if you let me in,” he said quietly.
Something in my chest loosened. “It’s been a while since I dated a man, Tanner.” I admitted, and then I forced a deep breath into my lungs as he dropped his hand from my face. “But I’m attracted to you as well. And I’m—” I paused, nearly choking on the words. “Interested.”
“You are?” He asked.
“As long as Goldie stays first. I don’t want her thinking we’re just using her or that she was somehow a stepping stone for us.”
“Never.” He nodded once, firmly. “She’s the center. Always.”
I licked my lips and his gaze fell to them, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
Then heels clicked on the stairs above us, and we both turned as Goldie came into view.
Descending the stairs like a vision in a red, short flapper-style dress hugging her curves, fringe catching the light with every step and dancing across her smooth thighs.
It was the option I picked for her, but I had no idea it would look so sensual on her.
I was teasing myself with the temptation to rip it from her sexy body.
Her smile was soft, confident, and radiant. She looked at us as if she already knew exactly what she was doing to us.
The air shifted. Tanner and I both gave her our full attention without thinking.
“Well,” she said, lips curling. “You both look like I’m in danger tonight.”
I smirked as she entered our space, sliding one hand around my hip as she leaned in and kissed me, letting the red of our lipsticks blend into a new color.
Our color.
“Hi,” I whispered, breathing her in as Tanner’s warmth engulfed us, his body close.
“I missed you,” She smiled, kissing me once more before pulling back to look at Tanner and then back to me. “We both did.”
I shot Tanner a quick look before taking another silent deep breath. “Good.” I smiled, relaxing into the trust I had in both of them. “Because I was green with envy all night long.”
“Not tonight, though,” Tanner spoke up, pouring a glass for Goldie and handing it to her as she beamed up at him when he lifted his glass to us in a toast. “Tonight is for us. All three of us.”
“Us.” Goldie toasted, a brave smile aimed my way as she clinked her glass to his, waiting for me.
“The three of us.” I said daringly. Clinking my glass against hers and then holding it out to him. “Tonight is ours.”
The lights and the noise of the city disappeared outside the second the doors to the club closed behind us.
It felt like a secret you were never supposed to find unless you were invited. The lights were low and warm, brushing over skin instead of illuminating it. Velvet draped the walls in dark wine and shadows. Leather gleamed softly in the candlelight.
Everything smelled of incense, perfume, and something sweetly dangerous.
The stage sat sunken in at the center of the room, circular and intimate, framed by U-shaped booths that curved toward it as if they were leaning in to listen to a secret.
There wasn’t a bad seat in the house. They were private to the other patrons, visible only to the performers.
Every seat was close enough to feel involved, but far enough to feel secretive.
Tanner’s hand brushed the small of Goldie’s back as we were led to our booth, her fingers laced with mine. His touch was subtle, protective and possessive in the quietest way.
And I was struggling not to long for it myself.
Goldie slid into the booth, taking the center seat and bouncing a little as she grinned like a cat that ate the canary when Tanner and I took a seat on either side of her.
The booth wrapped around us, cocooning us in shadow and intention as candles flickered on the table, their reflections dancing in Goldie’s blue eyes.
Somewhere, slow music pulsed like a heartbeat.
Other patrons found their seats, but I didn’t pay attention to who was there, my gaze stolen by Goldie’s beauty as she chatted a mile a minute in excitement.
I relaxed into the buttery leather, taking it all in, secretly impressed with Tanner’s choice for the evening, and thanking my lucky stars he didn’t outright win the game last night.
It would have been a shame to miss the experience.
The lights dimmed a few times, signaling that everyone should be in their seats, and the audience hushed with reverence.
For a moment, none of us spoke.
We just…breathed.
The world narrowed until it was only the three of us and the promise humming between bodies. Tanner’s thigh brushed against Goldie’s as he laid his arm over the cushion behind us, his fingertips grazing my neck softly, just once, before he settled his palm on the velvet cushion.
Goldie’s fingers squeezed mine, her other hand resting on Tanner’s thigh, steady and sure beside her.
There was no jealousy.
No fear.
Just curiosity and want.
The night wasn’t about rules or expectations.
It wasn’t about labels, reservations, or worrying about how far was too far.
It was about exploration. And honesty. About seeing what happened when we stopped pretending we didn’t feel this pull.
I glanced at Tanner, who was watching Goldie as the stage lights warmed the atmosphere, drawing everyone’s attention to it. And then his eyes rose to me, holding my stare without wavering.
There was no challenge, no territory to defend.
Just warmth.
We were here together.
Slowly, he slid his fingers through my hair and gently teased them up my neck to the base of my skull. I swallowed and shivered as my eyelids fell briefly before I forced them open again.
Goldie was staring at me, and where his hand was teasingly tracing every nerve, her smile was slow and luminous, like she knew something sacred had just been agreed upon without a single word.
“This feels right,” she whispered.
It did.
The music deepened, and the stage came alive in front of us.
And in our velvet-lined booth, with candlelight flickering and desire settling into our bones, we all silently agreed:
Tonight belonged to us.