The world tilted. A blur of motion, a sharp intake of breath, and then—

I landed hard against something soft. The mattress dipped beneath my weight. A second later, another heavier weight crashed down after me.

My eyes flew open, and I came face to face with none other than Rhys Carson. He was braced above me, one hand planted beside my head, the other gripping my waist tightly enough to keep me from sliding further into the bed.

"Evelyn..." he murmured, his lips tilting into the faintest smirk, a cocky look plastered across his face.

His face hovered mere inches from mine. Close enough for me to feel the warmth of his breath caressing my lips. Close enough to see the way his dark eyes had deepened into something dangerous.

Neither of us moved for what seemed like an eternity as my heart threatened to burst right out of my chest right this second. The air between us crackled, thick and electric, as though the entire room had been stripped of oxygen, and I could hardly breathe.

Then his gaze dropped to my lips for a split second, and I thought he might kiss me. But he didn’t make a move, instead, he met my eyes once again. And when his thumb slowly brushed against my waist, the simple touch was enough to send butterflies fluttering in my tummy.

I was still trapped under his body when he leaned closer, so close that there was barely a breath of space left between us.

"If you wanted me on the bed with you...you could have just asked." His voice came low and rough enough to send heat spiraling through me.

A gasp caught in my throat. Heat rushed to my face so fast it felt like my entire body had gone up in flames. My eyes widened as his words sank in, and for one mortifying second, I could only stare at him.

Rhys Carson was smirking.

"I—" My voice cracked embarrassingly, and I swallowed hard before trying again. "That is not what happened."

His smirk only deepened. "No?" he drawled, his dark eyes glinting with something dangerously close to mischief. "It doesn’t seem that way to me, my love."

My love...

I knew he was just saying it because of this whole fake relationship thing we had going on, but it still made my heart skip the way it would seven years ago. And when his gaze deliberately flickered downward, I became acutely aware of exactly how tangled together we were.

My body was half-pinned beneath his, one of my legs somehow caught between his, my hands pressed against his chest. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, I could feel the steady, powerful thud of his heartbeat beneath my palms. And the realization alone made my own pulse spiral completely out of control.

I swallowed the lump in my throat before I shoved lightly against his chest. "Get off," I demanded, but he didn’t budge, didn’t move an inch. Instead, he leaned in closer.

My breath hitched. Just when I thought we couldn’t get any closer, his face was now so close that if either of us moved even the slightest inch, our lips would brush.

I froze. His eyes locked onto mine, and whatever amusement had been dancing there moments ago slowly faded into something darker, like desire, perhaps. The teasing glint disappeared, replaced by an intensity that made my stomach twist. His gaze dropped to my mouth again. This time, it lingered.

I should have pushed him away harder. I should have said something. Instead, I lay perfectly still beneath him, my breath shallow and uneven as my traitorous heart pounded against my ribs.

Rhys’s fingers tightened ever so slightly against my waist, and I felt them digging into my flesh. "Evelyn," he said again, as though that was the only thing he knew of.

My lips parted instinctively. I could feel the featherlight brush of his breath against my mouth. One more inch, that was all it would take for me to get a taste of him.

But just as our lips were about to touch, I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away from him. "I can’t do this, I’m sorry," I mumbled under my breath, still unable to meet his eyes.

A long exhale brushed against my skin. Then, slowly, Rhys shifted back. Cool air immediately rushed into the space his body had occupied, and I hated how abruptly I felt the loss of his warmth, although I was the one who pushed him away in the first place.

When I finally forced myself to open my eyes, I still couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I stared instead at the crumpled sheets beneath my fingers, gripping the fabric so tightly my knuckles had gone white.

"I’m sorry," I repeated, my voice trembling despite my efforts to steady it. "I shouldn’t have—"

"Look at me, Evelyn." The quiet command sent a shiver down my spine. I hesitated, but I heard his voice reach my ears again. "Please."

Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet his. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against my chin, tilting my face fully toward his. The touch was impossibly gentle.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice low and steady. Silence enveloped us for a while before he finally broke it. "Let’s get packing, shall we?"

***

With Rhys’ help, it didn’t take too long before I had everything stuffed into my bags and large suitcase. To be fair, I didn’t have much stuff to begin with. The single most important thing was the picture of my late mother holding me when I was first born. With a small smile, I carefully tucked it into my bag to keep it safe.

Soon enough, I checked myself out of the hotel and was already en route to Rhys’ apartment.

The car ride was awfully quiet, neither of us said a word. Only soft music played in the back as I stared out of the window, my mind replaying the scene from earlier.

The warmth of his breath against my lips.

The way his thumb had brushed my waist.

That look in his eyes right before I stopped him.

My pulse quickened. I stared fixedly at the passing trees and buildings that lined the streets of Brooklyn, willing my thoughts to quiet, though to no avail. The ache reappeared in my chest. What if I hadn’t pushed him away? What if we kissed? What if...

The car came to a halt, and it was only then that I realised we were parked. I watched as Rhys got out of the driver’s seat and headed straight for the trunk without a single word. I trudged on quietly behind him as he lugged my stuff across the lobby like they weigh nothing, and headed straight for the elevator.

When we finally arrived at the top floor of the apartment building and the metallic doors slid open to reveal his apartment, I couldn’t help but gasp in awe as I let my curious eyes wander around the space that greeted us.

The view from up here was absolutely breathtaking.

Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the far wall, revealing a dazzling view of the city skyline glittering beneath the night sky. The living area was expansive yet tastefully minimalistic, all clean lines, dark wood, and muted neutral tones.

It was exactly how I expected his place to be. It seemed as though he hadn’t changed that much over the past seven years.

And suddenly, the reality of what I was doing crashed into me. I was moving into his home. Living with him. Sleeping under the same roof. All while being in a fake relationship.

My stomach flipped. But Rhys didn’t seem to notice the inner battle in my head. Instead, he casually rolled my suitcase and carried my bags over to one of the rooms down the hallway.

I padded across the cool, marbled floor and stopped when he did. I watched as he pushed the door open, and the room greeted me.

The guest suite was just as luxurious as the rest of the apartment—spacious, elegant, and surprisingly warm despite the minimalist decor. A large bed sat against the far wall, dressed in crisp white sheets, while another wall of windows overlooked the city below.

"You’ll take the guest suite," he said, his voice calm and unreadable.

I nodded quickly. "Right."

He glanced at me then, his expression carefully neutral. "There’s a private bathroom attached. The closet should have enough space for your things..." his words trailed off as he paused as if to contemplate his words before he finally spoke again. "If you need anything, just...let me know, yeah? I’ll be in the room right next to yours."

I nodded. "Okay." The response came out softer than I intended.

Silence stretched taut between us, but just as he turned to leave, the words slipped out before I could even stop myself.

"Rhys, wait."