Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
LILITH
The night after Roman's sleepover, I find myself wide awake under a full moon. I grab a glass of merlot and slip out to my postage stamp-sized garden. Jack materializes beside me, right on cue—midnight is his natural habitat.
Jack prances over and hip-checks me with enough drama to qualify for a daytime Emmy. "Spill the celestial tea, Lili-pad! Which Hollywood demigods deigned to breathe the same oxygen as you mere mortals at the gala? I need names, faces, and any wardrobe malfunctions—preferably in that order."
I bite my lip, picturing Jack's meltdown if I mentioned brushing elbows with George Clooney, Leonardo DiCaprio, or—heaven help us—Chappell Roan. Some details are better left unsaid.
"Just the usual rich people," I shrug. "It was magical until someone baptized my handmade dress with champagne. Twenty-four hours of stitching, down the drain—though maybe it's salvageable."
"Disaster! You spent the whole night looking like a walking wine spill?"
My lips curve upward remembering Roman's rescue mission—his personal shopper arriving like a fairy godmother with a replacement gown.
Each moment with him pulls me deeper under his spell.
Yet this morning he'd vanished with a vague promise to see me at the resort, leaving me to decode what exactly we are to each other.
"No. Roman actually had his personal shopper deliver a dress to me. It was breathtaking—midnight green silk that caught the light when I moved. And it fit perfectly."
"Shut up!" Jack's eyes widened. "That man doesn't do anything halfway, does he?"
"There's more." I raised my palm when Jack's eyebrows shot up.
"Not what you're thinking. Blake met someone at the gala—I think she might be the one for him—so Roman drove me home.
It was after two, and his home is forty minutes away I guess, so when he asked about crashing on the couch...
" I tucked my hair behind my ear. "I let him have the other side of the bed. We just slept."
"Lilith, you ‘ho! This is major!"
"I know, and I'm..." I traced the rim of my teacup.
"There's this electricity between us. Anyone would feel it—he's gorgeous.
But it's more than that. He's like a storm barely contained in human form.
Sometimes I think we recognize in each other what we're missing.
I'm drawn to his intensity, that fire I've never let myself have.
And I think he craves the calm he sees in me. "
Jack squeezed my hand with a dramatic sigh.
"Honey, I'm absolutely living for this romance novel you're starring in," he said, "but that man's emotional walls are thicker than my winter moisturizer layer.
The way he eye-devours you? Chef's kiss.
But sweetie, can Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Emotionally-Constipated actually unclench enough to let you past the velvet rope? That's the million-dollar question."
"That is the million dollar question,” I agree.
My phone vibrates against the table. Roman's name flashes on the screen. My heart slams against my ribs so hard I swear Jack can hear it.
Just wanted to check and see how you're doing. I don't remember if I thanked you for letting me stay last night
My fingers tremble as I type, deleting and retyping three times before hitting send.
Oh, thanks for checking on me! I'm doing great. And you did thank me for letting you stay. I don't remember if I properly thanked you for taking me home. If not, thanks! You're a lifesaver.
"Let me guess," Jack says, smirking. "Roman fucking Kensington is texting you."
"Is it that obvious?" I whisper, unable to look away from the screen.
"Honey, your face is practically radioactive. If we turned off the lights right now, you'd glow brighter than the goddamn moon."
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I press my palms against them. "I can't help it," I confess, my voice catching. "Just seeing his name—" Another ping cuts me off, and my stomach drops like I'm in freefall.
Hope I didn't wake you. Just got back from the resort and can't sleep…can't stop thinking about waking up next to you.
My cheeks flame hot as I read Roman's text. Jack peers over my shoulder, his smirk melting into wide-eyed surprise. "Well damn, Lil. The man's not exactly subtle about his feelings."
My fingers tremble as I type:
Actually, I'm wide awake too. For the same reason...
You at the shop today?
Yes. Readings scheduled.
Morning or afternoon?
Afternoon. Why?
Three dots appear, disappear, then reappear. Finally:
Just wondering if you'd play hooky with me. Another time. See you at the resort.
I groan and flop back against the pillows.
I could cancel the readings. I could. But these clients book because they're lost, seeking guidance when they've run out of options.
I can't disappoint them just because Roman Kensington—billionaire hotel magnate and ridiculous crush that he is—wants to see me.
"Another time," I whisper, clutching the phone against my chest. But I don’t say that.
See you then
Jack's eyes light up like sparklers as he practically bounces behind the counter. "Lilith! Playing hooky? Mr. Workaholic owner of elite resorts across the world wants to take the morning off to…" He wiggles his perfectly groomed eyebrows suggestively, his lips curving into a knowing smirk.
I feel heat rush to my cheeks. "Stop. He said nothing about-" I mirror his expression, raising my own eyebrows before dissolving into nervous laughter. "He just said play hooky. That could mean anything, you know."
"Say what you will," Jack says, leaning forward on his elbows, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But all the signs are there, Lilith. He's crazy about you."
He straightens up, counting off on his manicured fingers.
"Let's see, Lilith. He played knight in shining armor when the pipes broke, wading through that disgusting water in his thousand-dollar shoes.
He bought that crazy rare crystal for you that's worth a quarter mil.
Played knight in shining armor again by bringing you that dress on the fly.
He spent the night in your bed and then texted you to say that he can't stop thinking about waking up next to you.
Now he wants to play hooky with you…." He shakes his head, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.
"Girl. You have an admirer, a beautiful, wealthy, intelligent admirer with abs you could grate cheese on. "
"You forgot complicated, stormy…" I close my eyes, feeling the flutter of butterflies in my stomach. "Intoxicating.”
So, so, intoxicating.