Page 63 of Heated Takeover

“You’re not going as the event director,” I tell her, and she tilts her head slightly, a smirk still on her lips.

“I’m not?”

I shake my head slowly, my lips slowly mirroring hers.

“Then who am I going as?” she laughs, amused with the game she thinks we are playing. But I’m not playing a game. I’m dead serious.

I give her a moment, letting the question hang in the air between us before answering.

“My date,” I say.

“Your date?” she echoes with a scoff. But when she sees the seriousness of my expression, she says, “Your–”

“Date,” I repeat.

“Not the event director…”

I bend to take her hand in mine and pull her to her feet.

“You are the event director. But,” I tip her chin up to look at me and I pull her even closer. “For this event, you will only be my date. Okay?”

Her eyes skid around my face as if to ask if I am sure, and then she gives me a small smile. “Okay,” she answers, and I nearly kiss her. Almost.

I lean in to run my thumb over her lips, but I stop myself. I stop because we are at work; we are not alone, and we don’t need the attention or speculation. But as I pull back and make my way for the door, glancing back momentarily before walking out, it seems to silently be enough for both of us.

As I walk back to my office, I am still smiling, and I don’t normally do that, but right now I don’t really care. Let people wonder. Hell, they can fuck off for all I care. What happened in her office is my business. When I step into my office and close the door, a hand reaches out and stops me.

“Jesus, Tuck,” I shout. “Buy the damn Ducati. Hell, buy one in every color if you want. I don’t really give a flying–”

“What was that all about?” he asks and the smirk on his face makes me tense.

“I was telling Natalie about the gala. She has to be there, obviously,” I state.

“Right. Because she’s the director of events, and it’s a pretty big event, what with Olivia Rodrigo stopping by and all…”

My eyes shoot over to him. “You were eavesdropping.”

“You left the door open,” he says. “Also, I was going to ask you what you think of gunmetal versus black because I am obviously not going to buy one in every color. That would be crazy. Okay fine, I might have heard a few things about celebrity appearances and Dior or Louis Vuitton. Which, by the way, I think you’re right. She’s a Vuitton girl.”

I glare at my best friend for listening in on the conversation, wondering what else he heard. What else he saw.

Tuck bites a smirk. “You’re in deep.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

“I haven’t seen you like this in…well…ever.”

Well, that answers that. He was right outside the entire time.

I close the door so at least no one will hear this conversation.

“Look–” I start to say, but Tuck interrupts.

“Listen, I’m happy for you. I think it’s great.”

“You think what is great?” I demand.

“Whatever is going on between you and her, because clearly something is going on. And it’s not nothing,” he says. My heart slams in my chest.